


Sunbeam

by fairygel



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton is such a dad, Complete, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Healers, Height Differences, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Love, Minor Original Character(s), My First Fanfic, Nightmares, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Steve Rogers, Romantic Fluff, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 16:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 34,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19727392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairygel/pseuds/fairygel
Summary: Growing up, healing animals and plants were easy. Humans on the other hand? Not so much.When an attempted abduction takes place in the comfort of your own home, the normalcy you were one familiar with is stripped away as you take shelter at the Avenger's Compound. Despite the healing mishaps and the mysterious occurrences, you find comfort in the Avenger's family, and maybe something more for a certain someone...( Slowburn + lots of Avengers family fluff)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ✿ Hello my beloved fuckos! ✿
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this cluster-fuck of writing indulgence. I had no idea how much of an Avengers trash panda I was until I wrote this fan-fic. 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated!
> 
> xx

**This is how the story starts,  
  
** **When sunshine meets rain,  
** **When fire meets earth,  
** **When grumpy faces meet eyes filled with mirth,  
  
** **This is how the story starts.**

✶ ✶ ✶

**Chapter 1: Ghost**

Sam Wilson slumped against the wall. His mind was at ease, his heart beating at a stable rate. He was comfortable. 

_So, so comfortable._

It was almost as if he wasn’t shot just a few moments ago. 

_Wait a minute._

_Shot. Female Civilian. Gun._

And just like that he shook himself out of his sudden slumber, his mind whirring at the event that had occurred prior to his sleeping spell.. 

_What the hell happened?_

It was almost like she _enchanted_ him. 

The communication device in his ear beeped as Steve’s voice filled his ear. “Sam, they’re not here, we need to go! Are you hurt?” 

Still in a state of confusion, he sat himself up, his shoulder aching in protest. “Ah, fuck,” he groaned in response. “I’m here- I’m round the dumpster Cap, I took a hit but…”

The comfort he had a while ago had faded away leaving him in a loopy state as he blinked his eyes awake.

Luckily, Steve arrived even before he could finish his sentence. A look of worry etched onto his face, unsure of what to find. He had expected a million things, a sprained ankle, a dislocated shoulder, a bloody lip.

What he _didn’t_ expect was a confused Sam slumped against the wall, bloody but perfectly fine albeit dazed.

“What, were you sleeping?” He teased as he offered Sam his hand. 

Sam wobbled to his feet, frantically looking around for you. He could have sworn you were beside him. “I was shot..twice. And there was a civilian with me and she did something to my shoulder but I…” he trailed off. “I swear she was here Cap...She was-”

Steve put his hand on Sam’s shoulders in an effort to comfort him, it wasn't like him to be shaken up like this. “Hey, I don’t doubt it. I heard her scream. If she isn’t here she must have gone.” 

He eyed the two holes in Sam’s bloody sleeve. “Right now, my priority is getting you back to the MEDbay.”

“Yeah, alright. Okay Cap, that sounds..” he stammered. “That sounds good.” 

There were so many questions running through his mind. 

_Who were you?_  
_What the hell did you do?  
How did you...? _

His shoulder was in agonizing pain when he got shot but now it was nothing more than a dull ache. Not a scratch or a scar in sight.

_How in the hell?_

“Wait, hold on.” He turned back, accompanied by a concerned Steve. Finding the bloodied clothing on the floor, he gripped the material tightly and spread the back of the shirt revealing a name.

_Edward Wiley_

  
**\- A few hours before -  
**

Classes had ended for the day and you were curled up against a tree overlooking the lake. This was your safe spot, a place no one had sought out yet. 

Making yourself comfortable, you dug around the pockets of your jacket as you fumbled around for the eraser you _swore_ you had brought.

Sketching was great; it kept your mind off of things and it served as a great distraction. It was something your dad had taught you, the very inspiration behind your path in Art.

It was the invisible string that connected you to him. Pursuing art was your last gift to his memory, a decision you hope he was proud of.

College was manageable, to say the least. 

It would have in fact been better if you had adequate sleep every night but the nightmares came and went, visiting your dreams when you least expected it and the additional projects didn’t help either. 

There was a low grumble in your stomach as it protested against its empty state. Today’s sketch session was _officially_ over. 

“Thanks buddy,” you whispered gently. “See you soon.”

You gave the wooden bark of the tree a light pat before you swung your bag over your shoulder.

_ButteredUp, here I come.  
  
__..._  
  
The queue wasn’t long at all and you were out in an instant. You sent another thanks to the gods as you made a list about the luck you had so far.

  1. Classes had ended early and that was rare. Especially on Friday morning.
  2. You got to spend time with Woody the tree and even squeezed in a sketching session that was something completely unrelated to your school art projects.
  3. The shortest line ever in ButteredUp.



The day was still young and you practically bounced at the amount of netflix shows you could binge watch. It’s been awhile since you’ve had time to yourself and you were giddy with excitement.

It was Friday after all, the projects could wait. Your eyes shifted to the afternoon light which poured into the alleyway, illuminating its brick walls.

_Could it be another thing to add onto the Lucky list?_

You would never have taken the shortcut home because it was usually late and dark out when you wanted to. But today,

it called out to you.   
Almost as if to _entice_ you to take the shortcut.

You thought about your luck so far and began to stride into the alley.

_What_

_could_

_go_

_Wrong?_


	2. Murphy's Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong."

> _Got a lot on my mind_  
>  _You got a lot on yours_  
>  _But we can run like the wind, baby_  
>  _Go lock the door_  
>  _You know we lose it sometimes_  
>  _In love and war  
>  But we roll like a river  
>  We'll reach the shore_
> 
> _\- Spin with me by Emma Sameth, WOLFE ft. Jeremy Zucker -_

You hummed along happily, the volume as you liked it. Something your parents had cautioned you about.  
  
_“I swear, you’ll be deaf by the time you’re 30!”  
__“Just don’t make it too loud okay? I want you to still be able to be aware of your surroundings.”_  
  
You rolled your eyes as you smiled at that thought, wondering what they would have been up to if —

_What._

_In._

_The._

_Fuck?_

\- your thoughts were cut off as you were shoved aside. Lying on your back, you struggled to catch your breath, the air knocked out of you while a man with mechanical wings laid on top of you. His weight was crushing you.

_No wonder it was hard to breathe._

Fear crept into the cavity of your chest. You had apparently not noticed the commotion behind you and you scolded yourself for that. Your parents were right. This bad habit was _definitely_ something you really needed to look into.

You heard him groan as he rolled off of you and slumped onto the wall. The sound of a gun fired off and he tugged at your jacket, trying to pull you closer to him.

“Stay...hidden.” He ordered through gritted teeth.

You did as you were told, crawling beside him. When his hand touched his shoulder and came away bloody, realization washed over you as you realised he had pushed you out of the way of a stray bullet.

 _Two_ bullets in fact.  
  
You heard a soft beep and the man beside you spoke. “I’m down Cap,” he rasped. “I have a civilian with me.” 

_Cap?_ _Where have I -_

The mechanical wings, the red flying goggles...you remembered seeing him from somewhere.

_Falcon!_

Your memory screamed at you as flashes of him on the TV rushed through your mind. They were talked about on the news and you had heard the girls in school rave about ‘the biceps of a god’ or something along the lines of that.

You knew _exactly_ who they were. Question was, _why were they here?_

Falcon took staggering breaths beside you and you were pulled out of the realisation, quickly looking into your bag for the extra t-shirt you had with you. 

_Lucky him_.

Bunching up the material, you gently took his arm and peered into his face which was scrunched up in agony.

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” you whispered. “This is gonna hurt okay?” 

He looked into the material in your hands and nodded as he turned to you, giving you easier access. He hissed as you slowly increased the pressure to the wounds, your heart was pounding while the gunshots came closer. 

_Oh my fucking god, what if we both died today?_

The panic bubbled in your chest and your hands began to shake. The fighting was coming closer now and you screamed when a man’s body fell to the ground with a groan. 

It wouldn’t matter if _you_ died, you were insignificant in the world of heroes and villains, but the avengers however, they were humanity’s best defence and if they ever lost a member...

_You have to do it. There’s no other way._

A flashback ripped through your thoughts and there was a sinking feeling in your stomach. He moaned; blood was starting to seep through the material of the t-shirt. 

You shook the flashback out of your head and threw the shirt aside, placing your palms directly onto his shoulder. Your palms started to tingle as you slowly released the built up energy. 

He screwed up his face when he started to feel a warmth spreading on his shoulder. Taking a glance, he was shocked at what he saw.

“What the fuck!” 

You ignored his distressed cry, your focus unwavering as you patiently let the energy dissipate. His sleeve was still covered in blood and so was his shoulder but now it was...

unscathed.

_It fucking worked._  
  
He looked at you with a mixture of confusion and fear as you both slowly took in what just happened. “How the hell did you do that?” You saw the fear in his eyes as he struggled to come to terms with what he had just seen. 

_Squawk!_

There was a flapping of wings as a crow landed atop the dumpster.

_Time to go._

Without saying another word, you gently touched his temples, letting calmness flow through as he slumped onto the wall, fast asleep.


	3. Ghost II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'ghost' /ɡəʊst/ noun  
> 1\. an apparition of a dead person which is believed to appear or become manifest to the living, typically as a nebulous image.

_Flashes of white; an explosion._

_A scream._

_A sense of loss._

  
You woke up in cold sweat, your hair plastered across your neck as disorientation kicked in.

The sun had already set and your stomach grumbled as you thought about the events that transpired hours before.

Healing plants and animals were one thing but _humans_ ?

 _That_ was a tedious process; one that left you exhausted along with residual effects. 

You jolted when a pale-see through figure hovered near the TV. You couldn’t see it’s face, your vision still groggy from sleep but you gave it a tentative smile anyway, bringing up your hand for a weak wave before it sauntered off into the darkness of your garden.

Whoever this was, it knew the Falcon.

Healing humans often left you dizzy, sick or bleeding and it didn’t help that the spirits who hung around them, often made their presence known to you; in written words, emotions, dreams and very rarely, a conversation.

It never did occur to you how long it had been since you last healed a human being but it left you exhausted on the couch, passing out before your head even hit the pillows.

You thought about your parents, wondering if they would have been proud but you pushed aside your thoughts when your head started to throb, an onset of a fever coming in.

_Thoughts can wait. For now, Panadol._

…  
  
  
The next few days were a blur. 

With a burning fever, the last thing you needed was to get out of bed and so you stayed, getting up only when necessary.

Catching up for classes on the other hand? That was going to be _fan-fucking-tastic._

Your could practically hear your mom chiding you as you swallowed some medicine,

_'There’s a reason why we start small, hon. Going all out will make you sick, especially without practice. Baby steps, always take baby steps.’_

Jumping from plants and animals to full-bodied humans was a bad idea but where exactly do you have the time to care if the Avengers need your help?

_Squawk!_

Corvus the crow perched on a low branch of a tree, puffing out its chest before tilting its head as if to say ‘well, what are you waiting for?’

Begrudgingly, you took your first step out of the house, the leaves crunching beneath your feet as you navigated through the garden.

_Might as well._

_…_

  
Your limbs were splayed in different directions on the couch, fingers twitching slightly in deep sleep as a faint conversation hummed in the background, making you wish you had offed the TV before you slept.

_But wait,_

  
  
  
_I did._

 _I made sure of it._  
  
“We should bring her...” 

That voice, it was _familiar_. You had heard it before, you were sure. 

Forcing yourself up, your eyes darted around the room and widened when a damp cloth rolled off of your forehead, landing on the floor with a light _thump._

_What the hell?_

Your heart pounded against your chest as you squinted in the dark, resting on two figures leaning against the glass sliding door. Intruders? Robbers? Bad guys who... _cared_?

You were an aspiring artist, not some millionaire who had gold lying around, plus it was virtually impossible to steal anything valuable from you, so _who_ and _why_ were they here?

And why did they stay?

One of the figures glanced in your direction before reaching out to flick the lamp switch on. The light flooded the room with a click and you flinched at the sudden brightness.

There was a collective pause as you waited for your eyes to adjust before you glanced over at him.

With his hands on his hips and a wide smile plastered across his face, he spoke,

“Hey kid! It’s me, Sam.”


	4. Second Shots & Frantic Squawks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brilliant places to hide your keys:
> 
> 1\. Underneath the flowerpot

_Sam?_

_Sam?_

_Sam?_

You narrowed your eyes in confusion, blinking once, then twice before your eyes rested on the familiar contraption that was strapped onto his chest. Beside him stood a tall man with a star across his chest, his shield propped up against the sliding door.

Alleyway. Avengers. Gun shots.

“Oh, um… Falcon right?”

“Yeah! But with that trick you pulled off, you get to call me Sam.” 

You stared at him, brows drawn together and jaw slack as you fumbled for something to say.

What exactly is the proper response after finding Falcon and Captain America inside your house?

“Well,” he says after a long pause, shifting his weight from leg to the other. “I’d say you’re taking this pretty well.”

“Sorry, um...but I uh-- I’m glad you’re okay, Sam.” You busied yourself with picking up the damp cloth off of the floor, unsure what to do when you feel the scrutiny of his eyes on you.

“You look rough, kid. Anyone around to take care of you?” The concern is evident in his words and you feel the weight of it in his eyes.

“I can take care of myself.” You declared, clearing your throat before you continued. “So, um...did you break into my house?”

He grinned widely, perching on the armrest of the couch before fisting out a bunched material from the back pocket of his jeans.

“You left your shirt behind,” he replied, waving it in his hand. “Don’t worry, I washed the blood off and everything and we used the key under the flowerpot.”

“Thank you…I guess? For not breaking down my door, although...” Passing over the shirt, you gave him a small smile while you molded your fingers into the familiarity of the soft cotton of your dad’s shirt. “You could’ve just mailed this over, it probably would have saved you the journey.” 

“And miss the opportunity to personally thank you for saving my life? Nah, I don’t think so.”

A headache was starting to fog its way through your head and you ducked your head to hide the scrunch of your face when it exploded into a migraine.

Masking it with a smile was useless, their faces etched with worry when Sam placed the back of his hand on your forehead and frowned. “Hey, you’re burning up.” 

“It’s -- It’s nothing.” You say, suddenly feeling like a child. “It happens.” 

“Here, drink this.” A leather clad hand offered you a glass of water which you gratefully took. “Does it happen often?”

“Thanks Cap.” You gestured to your garden. “Yeah...I usually practice on plants and animals. Sam’s the first I’ve healed in years.”

Sam furrowed his brows in concern, taking a moment before a slow smile spread across his face. “Colour me stoked kid, I am honoured.” 

“You can call me Steve, kid and that’s one impressive garden.” He eyed you warily, taking in the dark circles under your eyes along with the pallid complexion that made him reconsider.

“We were thinking,” he began slowly. “Of bringing you back to the compound to recover.”

_Compound?_

Your mouth opened and closed, making you feel stupid at the inability to say anything. The gears in your head whirring as you laid out the facts and weighed the options. 

On one-hand, the thought of being surrounded by other people suffocated you, squeezing your chest as you thought about having to mingle around and socialize after being a hermit for most of your life.

Not to mention, you would be leaving your garden. Your precious garden, your longest companion and the animals, oh god the animals.

_Would they even find me at the compound?_

On the other hand, the idea of the loneliness dissipating intrigued you, called to you while you thought about having actual be people to talk to and not just mother nature alone. 

_It doesn’t sound too bad actually..._

“Come on, there’ll be pizza and we’ll take care of you all the way through. Plus, Tony’s dying to meet you.” Sam gave a pause, thinking for a moment before continuing. “Well, I guess everyone is after the whole healing thing.” 

Your eyes widened at the name, enough to allow the words to finally work. “Tony? As in _the_ Tony Stark?” 

It was a name that was treated with utmost respect in your college, having had donated a large sum of money for the very scholarship you were currently on.

“The one and only.” Steve confirmed. “Look, I’ll give you our numbers and we’ll give you time to think about it. How does that sound?”

There was a frantic squawk and you turned to see Corvus perched on the garden fence. 

_That’s odd_ , _he never usually hangs around after the sun has set._

“Sorry, don’t mind him.” You say, ignoring Corvus as he gave another frantic squawk, excitement blooming in your chest at the thought of change. “That sounds -” 

A sudden boom reverberates around the room as the walls around you are sent flying.

...

  
The quinjet soared quietly through the air, the stars twinkling as they illuminated the night sky.

“Come on man!” Sam begged. “We’re done anyway and her house is literally around the corner. I don’t bring this shirt around for nothing.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky muttered. 

Steve sighed, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Alright, but we make it a quick one.”

They had just finished a mission and were making their way back to the compound when Sam started insisting to pay you a visit. 

Natasha shook her head in disbelief as she tapped in the new location. “Really?”

Bucky rolled his eyes in agreement, as much as he was eager to go home and sleep, there was a tiny part of him that was curious about this mystery healer Sam had told everyone about.

While it was difficult to believe that there was a kid out there who could patch people up, he was reminded that he knew the God of Thunder, along with the time-warping sorcerer who lived in New York. 

Not to mention the spider-boy (whom he briefly met) who could shoot webs, fucking _webs,_ out of his wrists and suddenly, the idea of a healer wasn’t as ridiculous anymore.

The quinjet landed with a light bump before the aircraft door opened with a hiss. Natasha tapped on more buttons before she stood up. 

“I thought you weren’t coming?” Steve teased with an eyebrow raised.

She grinned as she joined them on the exit ramp, her red curls bouncing with every step.

“What and miss out on the fun?” 

They waited out in the field as she tapped a few buttons on her wristwatch. A few moments later, the quinjet shimmered before it disappeared completely.

“Well, let’s go find our girl.” 


	5. Flicker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In general, a cut that needs stitches should be repaired within 6 hours of the injury. The exception is cuts to the face and scalp, which generally can be repaired up to 24 hours after the injury."  
> \- WebMD

You land on the floor in slow motion, Steve looming over you as he lifted his shield to protect the both of you. Little pieces of debris fall all over you and your eyes shift around the room. 

Your ears are ringing and you see him looking at you, mouthing words in desperation.

Sam pulls you to your feet just as you see the glass door shatter. He pulls you through it and leads you out to the road, stopping when three men in tactical gear intercept your path, their rifles aimed at him.

He puts his hands up and so do you, knowing damn well you were outnumbered.

One of them edges closer to you, grabbing you and dragging you backwards. You struggled against him, trying to loosen the grip he had on you.

It loosened slightly when their attention shifts to the two figures walking out of your garden, an unfamiliar person walking alongside Steve.

You squinted in the dim-lit street as you tried to make out who it was. His hair was longer than Sam or Steve’s, some strands swaying as it escaped from the bun he had them in and even in the dim light, there was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

There were only three of you in the house, how did you not notice a fourth?

One of the men shift to aim a rifle at Steve and chaos ensues. Your attention is pulled away from them when you hear a low grunt followed closely by a crack as the man holding you falls to the ground.

Standing over his body is a red-haired lady with a satisfied look plastered across her face. “Kid, you okay?”

_Wait, a fifth?_

You nod, unable to speak. How she walked behind you without ever making a sound was a mystery in itself.

Your eyes shift back to the man on the ground and you take a small step back in shock as his form flickered.

Unlike the ghosts you had seen, this one looked real, _felt_ real but it was no doubt something else. Swallowing hard, you blinked a few times before looking at him again.

It was no doubt a _subtle_ flicker.

The lady looked at you in concern, eyes glancing at the man before looking back at you. “Hey, are you-”

You blacked out before she even finishes her sentence.

…

  
You floated in and out of consciousness as images of people weaved in and out of your view; _long black hair swaying, blue eyes, fingers checking your pulse, red hair._ And there was a sound, like an engine humming in the background.

  
Where am I?

  
You fought through the foggy confines of your head as you forced yourself awake; head throbbing and surroundings a blur.

“I’m fine. It’s just a cut. I can handle- ”

A hiss tears through the background noise as someone curses.

“Language.” Sniggers filled the air followed by a tired sigh. “I swear to god Romanoff…”

You squinted as your eyes slowly adjusted, their faces swimming into view as you recognised them.

“She’s awake.” Someone mumbled.

Settling on Steve, his face was pale, a sheen layer of sweat beading on his forehead and grime smeared across his cheeks. You simply couldn’t help yourself.

“You look like shit, Steve.”

There was a pause, and for a moment you thought they couldn’t hear you over the hum of the engine until Sam gave a hearty laugh, joined in by the red-haired lady and the metal-armed man whose mouth twitched as he held back a smile.

“God, I fucking love this kid already!”

Keeping your gaze steady, your eyes flickered towards his arm and you knew. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?”

“Don’t worry, kid. It’s just a cut.”

“Yeah, this super-soldier will heal by tomorrow.” Sam shot you an easy smile, clapping Steve’s shoulder while he hissed at the impact. “Don’t worry too much.”

You bit your lip, it felt wrong to simply accept it and move on. Especially since it was instilled in you to heal and take care of the living, no matter how big or small the injury. An unspoken obligation ingrained in you the moment you healed your first hamster. 

“Why wait?” Unbuckling yourself, you slowly got up until Sam gently pushed you back down.

“Kid,” he said sternly. “This isn’t up for discussion. You need to rest.” 

“I know but I… I want to help.” 

A smile spreads on Steve’s face as he finally caved in, gesturing to his injured arm. “Alright, have at it.” 

You walk over to him with Sam hovering by your side as you inspected the gash on Steve’s arm, the smell of blood stronger than before.

Taking a deep breath, you gently pressed your palms onto the wound, ignoring Steve’s wince as you let your palms work. 

Warmth seeped through your fingertips as the skin around the gash started to weave into each other, leaving a patch of pink, unharmed skin behind.

Steve studied his arm, carefully poking it before he let his fingers brush over where the gash once was. Sam slowly left your side as he inspected Steve’s arm. “God damn…”

Steve shot you a grateful smile, just as a see-through figure of a beautiful lady stood behind him. She was dressed in an old military uniform, her hair neatly pinned back in victory curls and her lips painted in a shade of red.

She tilted her head when she caught you looking at her, curiosity in her eyes before the corners of her lips twitched into a smile.

_'He has always been a stubborn man. Take care of him will you? He still owes me a dance.’_

She squeezed his shoulder affectionately, shooting you a wink before she vanished into thin air.

The world around you swung, and everything slowed; their faces transitioned into shock and worry, hands grabbing out to hold you while the air stilled as you fell. 

The last thing you remembered were blue eyes staring back at you.


	6. Background Check

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The objective of background checks is to ensure the safety and security of the employees in the organization. These checks are often used by employers as a means of judging a job candidate's past mistakes, character, and fitness, and to identify potential hiring risks for safety and security reasons."  
> \- Wikipedia

Your arrival to the compound had the remaining team members gathered around for a meeting.

It was no surprise that Hydra had picked up on you. There were eyes and ears everywhere. Except,

their pattern seemed off: It was almost _too fast, too sloppy_ and it lacked the tactical precision that Hydra was known for. 

“So what _do_ we know?”

“Not much, she’s squeaky clean. FRIDAY, please pull up all the records we have on our newest recruit.” Tony called out as he poured himself a drink. “Anyone want drinks? Big birds? Rhodes? Anyone?”

**Yes, sir. Pulling up all database records on Miss Wiley.**

“Let’s see.” Tony pulled up the school records and arranged it in a pile.

“Admitted into a recovery facility in her early years, graduated high-school early, took a gap year before entering college, currently an Art Major.”

Tony paused as the pictures filled the screen. “Her parents, a War Veteran and a Doctor, both deceased. It seems like our recruit came from a family of Medicine. Whether they all have magic hands, we don’t know.”

“No reports or anything from her schools? Classmates? Any outside contacts?” Sam asked.

“Nada. Zilch. Nothing. Our magical medic kept to herself pretty often.”

“Medical records then? I mean if she was in the recovery facility for awhile, there has to be something?” 

“That’s the interesting thing, bird boy.” Tony took a sip from his cup before continuing. “She was admitted into the recovery facility when she was 14, around the time her parents died. Apparently little miss magic fingers here, rambled about seeing things. Her attending doctor, Mr Brunhilde Wort has since been transferred.”

“Things?” Sam questioned. “What kind of things?”

“We don’t know. It was written off as a traumatic reaction. Nothing more.”

“Anything else on the parents then?” Clint asked.

“I’m glad you asked, bird man. FRIDAY pull up the records of her parents.”

**Right away sir.**

Sam paused in his seat on the couch. “Bird _boy_ ? Seriously? Why does Clint get to be bird _man_?”

“I have kids, bird boy.” Clint mused. “I get to _be_ the man.”

Tony rolled his eyes and gathered the information before chucking it to the side, the files neatly arranging themselves as the wall of information slowly built up.

Sifting through various news articles and videos, he threw the important ones in a cluster and zoomed in.

“Her dad was an Army medic and he went for two tours before coming back. According to his Army records, there always seemed to be a low casualty rate whenever he was around.” Tony paused. “Huh, maybe daddy had powers after all.”

He played a shaky video of someone running, an explosion going off at the back before the sound of guns fired off.

“There was an ambush on one of their missions which left the team injured and after that, daddy came home and just wasn’t the same. Their deaths were ruled as suicide.”

“Deaths?” Clint asked. “Separate occasions?”

“From the reports of the attending paramedic team, it was a suicide pact.”

There was a resounding silence as a wave of sympathy filled the room. 

“Any outside contacts from his side? Psychiatrists or Psychologists?” Rhodey asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Excellent question Rhodeykins,” Tony replied, pointing a pen in his direction. “We do have a record on a Dr Edward Mutt, but word is, he retired a few years ago.”

“So we have no leads?” 

“Not solid ones anyway. So far just her attending doctor, Mr Brunhilde Wort.” Tony muttered as he hopped into a chair and swivelled around.

“We’ll just have to do more digging. Hey FRIDAY, give me a status report on the kid, will you?”

**She is currently awake and cooperating well with Dr Cho.**

“That’s good, can’t we just ask her?” Sam proposed. 

Tony let out a huff of annoyance. “Yeah, as if little miss magic hands would just tell us everything. Now why didn’t I think of that?” 

“See, this is why you’re bird boy.” Clint quipped.

“Man, shut up.” Sam countered, throwing a couch pillow his way.


	7. Drugs & Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drugs are only good when its medicine.

Bucky Barnes was annoyed, having had the little visit end in a fight. _Correction_ , 

he was livid.

Sure it was his job, having joined the little band of heroes they were but it was something he avoided if he could. Shooting bad guys, breaking bones and stabbing vital organs during missions? Sure. 

But anything outside of that reminded him too much of something he was trying so desperately to forget.

He rarely smiled, laughed even less and the only few people who could make him show any ounce of happiness at all, were only a handful: Steve, Sam, Nat and Clint when they argued, Bruce and Thor when they sparred. 

And then you woke up, telling Steve that he looked like shit and he fought so hard not to smile, making him momentarily forget about the internal conflict raging inside him. It surprised him, how easily a stranger could make a smartass comment and make him smile, he was intrigued.

_You know, something about her reminds me of you.” Steve mumbled, glancing at where you laid in his arms._

_He raised an eyebrow in response, adjusting you into what he thought was a more comfortable position. He glanced at you before looking back up at Steve._

_“It’s the hair isn’t it?”_

_Steve rolled his eyes, a small smile sitting on his lips. “Of course it is, fuckin’ punk.”_

There was a stir in the blankets as you pushed it aside, eyes blinking slowly as you looked around the room. He mentally cursed, not expecting you to wake up while Steve was still in the meeting.

“Hi stranger.” 

His eyebrows twitched in amusement as you smiled sleepily at him from the hospital bed, the drugs clearly doing its work as your words dragged slightly.

“Hey,” he said softly. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m greaaat.” You held two thumbs up, making him smile. You tilted your head while you studied him. “You know, I still don’t know who you are but... you should smile more…it looks good on you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah...my hand itches. Why is it...?”

Two sleepy blinks later, he watched as your eyebrows furrowed, fingers brushing over your hands until it finally rested on the IV.

He leaned forward just as you tugged on the IV tube, his hand gently prying yours off before you could do any damage. 

“Don’t think that’s a good idea.”

A small pout sat on your lips as you held your hand up. “But it itches…”

“I’m sorry kid. You’ll have to ask the nurse on this one.”

Your eyebrows furrowed while you stared at him. “Aren’t you a nurse?”

His mouth twitched just as Dr Cho and Steve walked in. “No, but Dr Cho over here will take care of you.” 

“But...which one is Dr Cho?” You frowned, tilting your head to the side as you looked at them both before a chuckle escaped from you. “Just kidding.” 

They grinned at your loopy state while they stepped back to give Dr Cho space.

“What did Sam say?”

“They’re looking into her doctor. Think it might shine some light on how they picked up on her.”

He nodded, eyeing the IV on your hand as you fell back to sleep. “I’ll take first watch.” 

_…_

“I don’t get it.” Bruce mumbled. 

Tony flopped onto the sofa and let out an exasperated sigh. “Look buddy, I don’t get it either but I’m just telling you what I saw.”

“Which is _nothing_.” Rhodey deadpanned. 

“Exactly. I don’t know what’s more chilling, the fact that we don’t know what’s going on or the fact that we don’t know what’s going on.”

Tony had gone back to your home, ready to scan the walls just in case there were hidden passageways or hidden nooks and crannies that contained information. What awaited him, however, was not something he had expected.

Your house was in pristine condition. 

His jaw went slack when he first saw it, blinking rapidly just in case there was some sort of magnetised cloaking spell like the ones they had seen in Wakanda.   
But there was _nothing_. 

No debris, no forced sign of entry, no sign of any action going down in the vicinity. It was like nothing ever happened.

  
And he hated it, hated having no explanation whatsoever for what he saw.

He had heard it all on the recordings he kept from the communication device; the explosion, the glass breaking, the fighting.

“Watch, just watch. FRIDAY, can you play the video recording of the visit to the kid’s compound?” Tony called out. 

**Yes sir.**

“Tell me I’m wrong.” He said as he gestured towards the loading button. The video plays out and they sit dumbfounded. 

There was indeed _nothing,_

no debris, no signs of any glass, no nothing. In fact, your glass sliding door was up and functioning.

“FRIDAY can you please replay the compiled audio from the communication devices on the night of the kid’s attempted abduction?”

**Pulling up the audio.**

_An explosion. “Guys, I need backup. Sam, get her out of here!”, a grunt and the glass sliding door breaking. “Come on Kid!” More grunting. Bullets. The sound of fighting. The sound of your voice._

The audio ends and the evidence clear. 

“What does this even mean?” Rhodey muttered, breaking the silence.

“It means that HYDRA’s either stepped up their game or,” Tony paused to look over them. “We’re not the only players in town.”


	8. Caterpillar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, the caterpillar stops eating, hangs upside down from a twig or leaf and spins itself a silky cocoon or molts into a shiny chrysalis. Within its protective casing, the caterpillar radically transforms its body, eventually emerging as a butterfly or moth.  
> \- scientificamerican.com

The sun had been under a cloud all day, and there had been brief showers; but when the sun broke forth in all its southern splendour, you silently left the compound, eager to spend time with nature after being cooped up in the compound after so long.

The past two months were spent under the eyes of Tony, Dr Cho and her nurses, namely Nurse Song, who regularly ran tests and entertained your questions.

You sat under a tree, a distance away from the compound as a bunny hopped out from nowhere. It’s nose twitched and you could see that its hind legs were matted with dried blood.

You coaxed it forward, bringing it to your lap as you gently healed its leg.

If anything, you were grateful for the ounce of normalcy it provided. 

When the bunny hopped away into a bush, you sighed as you leaned back against the tree.

Things were different now. 

  
The past was stripped away, replaced by a world of superheroes and villains, a world you never thought you would be a part of. It was something you still had to adjust to and the thought of it made your stomach churn.  
  
_What if I don’t fit in?_  
  
You weren’t like them. You didn’t have any background in kicking ass and you were sure that someone could take you down in mere seconds. You were a risk, a liability if you joined the team.

The thought remained, screaming and clawing as it fought for your attention. You gazed up at the sky just as the wind picked up, blowing your hair in different sorts of directions. 

_What_

_if_

_I_

_don’t_

_fit_

_In?_


	9. Light Separation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know that feeling you get when you get attached to people and they leave for a little while?
> 
> Yeah, that.

“Sam, look at me.”

You stood on a stool and placed your hands firmly onto his shoulders. “I’ll be _fine_.” 

Steve and Bucky hovered by the door clad in their gear, an amused expression resting on their faces. 

“I know you are, I just wanted to make sure that you remember what we talked about. Now what did we talk about?” Sam asked for the nth time.

Rolling your eyes, you listed them down as Sam nodded at each one. “Great, that’s great. That sounds like music to my ears.”

After the events that had happened months ago, Sam constantly hovered around you but you weren’t one to complain. It was nice, being taken care of for once and he might as well just adopted you as a sibling. 

_Not that you were against that thought either._

“You done, mama bird?” Steve teased lightly.

“Fuck off, Rogers.” Sam countered. 

It had been months since you’ve recovered, taking baby steps as you tried to familiarise yourself with the compound as well as the people in it. They had taken turns watching over you, giving you company while Dr Cho monitored your progress.

Sometimes they’d drop off food, check in with whoever was watching you or they’d come by to simply say hi, their curiosity getting the best of them.

Clint was your favourite, he dropped by the most and would talk to you about his family, occasionally teaching you sign language when you weren’t loopy and in turn, you talked to him about art. 

When Dr Cho finally gave you the green light, the team had taken special care to give you space so as to not overwhelm you with the change. 

After all, they didn’t want to overwhelm their newest, youngest _recruit_ , a term that sounded so foreign, you never knew when you were going to get used to it.

Tony had settled with your school, enrolling you into an online school as a part-time student instead. It was his way of giving you a shot of normalcy since being a recruit meant that you had to spend more time with the Avengers. 

He was adamant about not returning to your home, and so you settled with a room on the same floor as Steve, Sam and Bucky, giving Steve the perfect opportunity to drop by, spending the whole afternoon sketching beside you whilst Sam or Clint popped by to drop off food.

Needless to say, the time spent at the compound wasn’t as awkward as you thought and they were easy to be around.

It made you grow attached to them. 

It was hard not to.

**Captain Rogers, your company has been requested at the loading deck.**

“Okay, chow time! Remember what we talked about, Smiles! We’ll see you when we get home.” Sam pulls you in for a hug before heading towards the door.

Steve and Bucky both nod at you while you shot them your signature smiley-eyed smile, the very one that earned you the nickname in the first place.

You couldn’t help but feel the gnawing feeling that had grown in your stomach. This was their first mission since you had arrived and your stomach churned at the separation anxiety.

_What if something goes wrong?_

**Miss Wiley, Mrs Potts is here to see you.**

You jumped in surprise as the AI’s voice echoed through the suddenly empty living room of your room, something you still had to get used to. 

“Pepper!” 

You had only seen her a few times, when she dropped by in the MEDbay but all her questions were crafted with a purpose and it was enough to let you know that she genuinely cared. 

"Do you want to come in? Have some Coffee? Tea?" You ask, jerking a thumb into the living room.

She patted your back before she pulled away from your hug. “No, I’m great thank you. I just wanted to check on you.”

“Did Sam put you up to this?” 

She shook her head before tilting it to the side. “No. Why? Has Sam been pestering you?

“God, yes.” 

“Sam, that man.” She shook her head as she smiled fondly. “He didn’t mention anything, I just wanted to come by to see if you were okay. It’s not too overwhelming is it?”

A room with its own living room, along with a small kitchen, plus a master bedroom? _Definitely_ not too much.

“No, it’s great! It’s perfect actually.” You gave her what you hoped was a convincing smile before it faltered. “I’m just worried.”

“Don’t worry too much, they’ll be back before you know it.” She grabs your hand and pulls you out of your room before you can protest. “The pizza’s on its way so we can have a girls night in today. Now tell me, how was class today?”


	10. Jellybean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you're used to wielding pens & paintbrushes, it should be easy for you to adjust to knives."  
> \- Something Natasha fucking Romanoff would say, you know, nonchalantly.

* * *

“You’re worse than I ever was with Rebecca.” 

“I’m just saying,” Sam began. “She’s tiny. She’s like a little jellybean. Do you know how easy it is to squish a jellybean?”

She rolled her eyes before looking over at Sam. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll teach her some self-defence.”

“Careful Nat,” Clint teased. “Wouldn’t want you to squish the jellybean.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up. “I won’t.”

They flew over the sea, the clouds soaring past them as Tony and Rhodey followed alongside the quinjet. 

She had taken a liking towards you after you told Steve that he looked like crap and she was sure that she wasn’t the only one. 

“Thank you Nat!” Sam exclaimed. “Glad to know that someone’s on my side.”

A snore erupts from Bruce as she flicked a switch and tapped a few buttons. “So,” she continued. “What does she like to do? I never really got to hang.” 

“Art, mostly.” Steve began. “She’s great with everything.”

She furrowed her brows. _Art huh?_ “She might be handy with knives.” 

Sam almost chokes on his water and Bucky glares at him from his seat.

“Knives, seriously? What happened to not squishing the jellybean? Now you want to _stab_ the jellybean?”

“I don’t know Sam.” She shrugged. “I’m just saying, if she’s used to paintbrushes and pencils, knives should be easy to get used to. Slender, easy to-”

“Nah, that ain’t ever gonna happen. She’s gonna injure herself, probably stab someone else in the process too. Have you seen her with…”  
  
…

**Miss Wiley, Mr Stark has requested your assistance down at the MEDbay.**

You jolt awake at FRIDAY’s voice and your heart quickens in your chest as you sit up in bed.

Quickly splashing water on your face, you rushed off into the MEDbay where it’s bustling with movement at the arrival of Tony and company. 

You spot Tony with Pepper hovering beside him and approach them anxiously. “Tony?”

They whipped their heads in your direction, Pepper shooting Tony a glare. 

“What’s going on?”

Seconds pass by before Tony says a name that makes your world spin.

“Clint.”

_Please let him be alright._

“What- where is he? What happened?”

 _Please let him be alright._ _Please let him be alright._

“Rogue shooter. Bullet shot him in the thigh and he got distracted. I’m sorry kid, I know you’ve just recovered —“

 _Please let him be alright._ _Please let him be alright. Please let him be alright._

“No, don’t worry about me. Where is he?” It’s hard to hide the urgency laced in your words but when Tony jerks his head at a bed further back, you rush over and you see him: pale and sweaty. 

“Smiles!” He says through gritted teeth. “Sorry for waking you up.” 

He has the decency to smile but it’s quickly wiped off when the nurse digs around the wound in search of the bullet.

Her hands are steady as the forceps find the slug, dropping it into the metal tray with a metal clink.

He thanked her before smiling shakily at you. Natasha gives you a brief smile as she sits by his legs, applying pressure to the wound. 

“Do your worst kid.”

You don’t hesitate, pressing your palms over the wound the moment Natasha removes the pressure from his thigh.

He sucked in a breath while you worked as fast as you can, an audible sigh when the wound is patched up. “Thank fucking god. My leg was killing me.”

She passes you a cloth, her gaze flickering from your hands to his thigh. Wiping your bloodied hands, you move to his shoulder, tip toeing as you placed your palms on it.

You repeat the process, ending it with a hug when you faced him.

“Woah there, kiddo.” 

He fell back slightly from the hug, bracing a hand on the hospital bed to keep steady.

Your arms were firmly around his middle as he folded into the hug, patting your head. “Tony said it was a rogue bullet.”

In the short time that you’ve been here, Clint has been like a father to you, mirroring the way Sam constantly fussed over whether you’ve eaten, taken your medicine, whether you were comfortable or not. 

It was hard not to get attached to someone who treated you like family. Even harder when he just got shot, the thought of him ever disappearing...

“It was, but I’m fine now, thanks to you.” He gave you a reassuring smile before you swayed lightly on your feet.

“Uh oh,” he holds your arms and steadies you. “You okay?”

He peers into your eyes as you blink hard and nod. You wait for the headache to come but it doesn’t. 

_Baby steps?_

Something pale runs around his legs, weaving in and out, its tail wagging when it senses your gaze.

“I’m fine, seriously. You don’t worry about —“ 

Your nose starts to gush and you cursed as you put your hand under to try to stop it.

Natasha comes over to you and turns you to face her, lightly pinching the bridge of your nose before putting a wad of gauze under it.

“I’m fine!” You said through the gauze. “This happens quite a lot.”

The blood seeps through the gauze and Natasha turns you back to Clint. “I’ll go get more. Just put some pressure here will you?”

Clint nods as he jumps to his feet. “Come on Smiley, hop up.”

You jumped up on the edge of the bed, your feet dangling as you adjusted the gauze.

The nurses were bustling around, the MEDbay looking crowded as ever and it made you wonder if anyone needed your help. “How was the mission? Is anyone else hurt?”

“You worry too much.” He gave a fond smile before gesturing to the nurses. “Dr Cho and her nurses are tending to them as we speak.”

“Well, did you guys find what you were looking for?”

He doesn’t get the chance to answer as Natasha returns with more gauze.

She takes the bloody wad from you and throws it onto the bed, quickly swapping it with new ones. “How are you holding up?” 

“I’m good, been better.” You say with a shrug. “How are _you_ holding up?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” her lips quirk into a smile. “I heal quick. Clint, take care of her will you? I’ll go check on Sam and Bruce.”

He nods and cocks his head before he shoots you a worried look. “You’re bleeding... a lot...”

His brows furrowed in concern as he gathered the bloodied gauze and plastic. “Does this happen often?”

“It depends,” you shrugged, holding the gauze in place. “Sometimes I get sick.”

He considers this for a moment before he looked over to see if any of the nurses were free. The amount of blood coming out from your nose alone wasn’t normal and it worried him. 

“I’ll go get someone okay?”

Before you can protest, he leaves and you kick your feet while you wait. 


	11. Healing Mishaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't you hate it when you get into bed and then you forget something? And then you think about whether it's worth getting out for even though you probably should?
> 
> Yeah, similar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Apologies if the spaces aren't consistent! I wrote the story on google docs and I wasn't prepared for the different format but YOLO m i rite?)

His ears perked up at the sound of soft footsteps.

Pausing, he took in the sounds of the MEDbay, separating the footsteps of the nurses and the team and then he frowned, settling on a small figure sitting towards the back.

His eyes caught on to Clint who now walking around asking the nurses if anyone was free. His gaze flickered towards his thigh where a bullet was lodged just a couple of hours ago.

There was a soft rustle of plastic and a light _thump_ as something dropped onto the ground in front of you, his feet moving to where you were, boots heavy against the linoleum floor.

He saw your blood-smeared fingers hover above the pillow and he instantly knew what you were going to do. 

“You probably shouldn’t do that.”

Your hand snapped back and you glanced over your shoulder, looking like a child caught misbehaving. “Did you just read my mind?”

“No.” He grabbed the gauze off of the floor. “Didn’t need to.”

There was blood smeared everywhere; your palms, your fingertips and under your nose from where you dabbed at with the gauze. 

He had seen it before with Rebecca; how she’d use almost anything to stop her nosebleeds: the sleeves of her shirt, the table cloth, a blanket, a pillow but _never_ with a bunch of tissues.

It used to drive his ma crazy.

He recalled the conversation on the quinjet while he tore off the plastic, a rush of protectiveness surging through him and he mentally cursed. 

_Sam was rubbing off on him._

“Thanks!” 

He crossed his arms while he watched you swap the bloodied gauze for new ones, recalling how entertaining you were under drugs: loopy and talkative but sobering up was a different story, you were quiet and shy.

Until Sam got to you. 

Then it was like a dam had opened and the years of being alone washed out, leaving you as an affectionate jellybean who showered everyone with constant affection and never-ending conversations.

And he meant _everyone._

Somehow his reserved, guarded demeanour didn't have any affect on you whatsoever but he wasn't one to complain.

It was nice, being treated like a regular person.  
  
“Just a little healing mishap. How are you holding up? How was the mission?”

“I’m fine, just tired.” His voice was devoid of any emotion as he walked over to the other bed before returning with more gauze.

Truth be told, tiring didn’t cover it. The mission was a bust and it left them sore and bruised all over.

“Heard you managed to patch Clint up?” 

“Mmhmm.” You kicked your legs while he ripped off the plastic, his hair swaying at the movement.

_Approaching footsteps._

He glanced up just as Clint brought over a familiar nurse, stepping away to stand beside him while the nurse inspected you.

“Nurse Song, I missed you!”

“Tsk, tsk.” The older nurse shook her head disapprovingly, putting a hand to her hip before bursting into a smile and patting your knee. “I miss you too 아가.”

…

Rhodey let out a huff of annoyance. “They’re toying with us I know it.”

Beside him, Bruce hummed in agreement. They sat in Tony’s lab, pouring over archives of news articles and records.

The doctor was nowhere to be found and the facility was ridden with boobie traps and masked assailants.

If anything, it confirmed that Hydra wasn’t behind this at all.

“It’s like he disappeared into thin air or something. No outside contacts, nothing!” Tony said in defeat.

“Maybe the kid is onto something.” Steve quips in. “I mean she did mention the flickering. Is there a possibility that Loki is behind this?”

Thor waved his fingers. “I can assure you that Loki isn’t part of this.” 

“How do we know for sure?” Tony asked. “What if he’s trying to throw us off?”

Thor sits up on the sofa and looks at them pointedly. “Because if it _was_ Loki, the girl would not be here.”

“I’m just saying Thor,” Rhodey says as he put his hands up in defense. “It sounds like something Loki will do.”

Thor nods and considers it for a moment; his brother was the _god_ of _mischief_ after all. 

“Then I’ll head back to Asgard to seek his whereabouts.”


	12. Self-Defence Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's so fucking annoying when you get slammed repeatedly against the mat.

**\- 2** **Weeks later -**

  
“No…” You groaned as you rolled over on the mat. “I’m a healer Nat. I don’t do punchy bleedy.”

“Well I’m not going to leave you defenceless.” Natasha says as she stands over you, her hands on her hips. “Plus, it’ll get Sam off of my back.”

“You said you were gonna teach me gymnastics.” You whined. 

_God damn it, Sam!_

“Can’t I have a suit like Tony’s?” You blinked up at her and narrowed your eyes. “Wait, are you even sweating?” The corners of her mouth quirked up into a smile as she pulled you up into a sitting position.

“Why don’t we take 5 before I pass you over to Barnes?”

You groaned as you flopped back down to the mat.

A few days after their return from the mission, Natasha had shown up to your door with a set of gym clothes. 

_“It’ll be fun.” she said._

Apparently Sam had somehow convinced her to teach you defence techniques, leaving you to face the wrath of the Black Widow.

What’s worse was that she wasn’t the only one he had managed to convince. Bucky, Clint and Steve were in on it too, joining Nat as they gave you lessons on self-defence and strength training when you were done with the online classes.

How Sam was still alive was a miracle.

There was a nudge on your foot and you looked up to see Bucky standing by your feet with an amused look in his eyes.

“You dead?”

“Close.”

You sit up and shoot him a grateful smile when he offers you a hand. His hand is cold against yours and there’s a sinking feeling in your stomach when he hands you a black hoodie. You eyed it suspiciously. “What’s this?”

“Put it on. We’re going out today.” 

You decided against arguing, following him out of the gym as you eyed the long black bag he carried along with him. 

Usually he’d gang up on you, joining Nat as they sent you to self-defence hell but then again, you never knew what to expect with the two Soviet assassins.

He glanced at you as you wiped away the sweat before putting on the hoodie. “You brought your knife with you?”  
  
“Mmhmm.”

He was extremely particular about having a knife on you at all times and you never did ask why, it was just one of the many mysteries Bucky Barnes had to offer.  
  
**…**

He brought you to a clearing in the woods. His shoulders tensed and eyes alert for any disturbances or irregularities even though he knew it was safe. 

He had made sure of it.

Setting the black bag down, he unzipped the bag, briefly glancing up at you when you peeked at what was inside it. “We’re going to learn about firearms today.”

You took a step back as your eyes widened. “What— Is this a joke? Shouldn’t we go to a shooting range first?” 

He watched as you eyed the wide array of rifles and guns nervously, his eyebrows twitching in amusement when you rambled on. 

“You know with the luck I have, I’ll probably shoot myself or someone back at the compound...Or you. I’ll prob— ”

“Relax.” 

He pulls out a case from the bag and glances up at you, his blue eyes sparkling with a hint of humour. “You won’t.”

...

The session proved to be more productive than he’d expected, with minimal injuries.

Sure you both had to sit down for hours on the ground while you familiarized yourself with the variety of weapons laid out on the ground but he was patient, correcting you when you got it wrong. 

He leaned against a tree while you explored the firearms with unrestrained curiosity, enjoying the way you would shoot him smiley-eyed grins when you finally got used to them. 

You had been so nervous at first but now you were throwing the emptied firearms in the air with child-like glee.

He knew he should have stopped you, should have lectured you about handling the firearms with care but it was a captivating sight.

An odd little thing you were, an affectionate soul with a weird sense of humour.

He never did forget that smartass comment you made, nor did he forget about the loopy you who was just as entertaining. 

It made him treasure little moments like these, treasured the little pockets of time he was 'forced' to spend with you because he knew he would never do it on his own accord.

The day he finally teaches you how to shoot, Sam and Steve sit under the tree, the first-aid kit tucked beside him.

You hold out the gun, enjoying the feel of the heavy weighted meta, cool against your palms.

The sleeves of his hoodie are pushed up to your arms and he stands behind you when you take your first shot, steadying you when you jerk back slightly from the impact. “You okay?”

You looked up at him, eyes wide before you grinned. “That was awesome!” 

He fought back a smile while he adjusted your stance, allowing you a few more shots before he moved on to a different firearm. Walking over to a large rock, he adjusted the rifles on it accordingly, giving you tips on certain surfaces to look out for. 

“Brace your shoulder.”

You pulled the trigger, the butt of the rifle jamming into your shoulder like he said.

He watched you intently as you scrunched up your face at the impact. “All good?”

You glanced up at him, brushing it off with a smile. “Mmhmm.”

You shoot a few more rounds, eager to get past the sore shoulder before moving on. He props up a slightly different looking rifle, explaining the difference before showing you how to calibrate the scope.

“We need to work on your aim.”

“Is it that bad?” 

“Well, it’s not _good_.”

You made a face at him before Sam called out from under the tree. “You suck, Smiles!” 

He checks the calibration before walking around you to adjust your stance and your fingers. “Go for the blue one.”

You took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. The bullet zips through the forest and hits the can with a clink, before falling onto the grass.

“ _Atta-girl_.” A slow smile crept on his face while Sam cheered from the tree.

This continued on with him calling out different colours for you to shoot at, having had prepped the forest with coloured cans hidden all over. 

“Okay, the last one.” There’s a smug look on his face and the urge to wipe it off fuels your energy. “Let’s see if you can find it.”

Within minutes, you spot a red can hidden in the branches of a tree. Your finger is ready to pull the trigger when something captures your attention.

You looked up and then back down again, squinting your eyes as your heart rate accelerated. 

He senses your unease and a crease sets on his forehead. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s...there’s something there.” He notes the change in your voice. Was it fear? Hesitation? 

“See the leaves above the red can? It’s... it’s _flickering_.”

He looked into the scope of his rifle, brows drawn together. You shift your aim and shoot above the red can.

The leaves still subtly flickering before slowly fading away, revealing barren branches.

“What the...” He sucked in a breath as he stared at the withering tree.

A cold feeling settled in his stomach as his eyes darted around the forest, alert for any movement. “Sam, Steve!”

He briefly glances at you before continuing in a low voice. “Knife out and stay close.” 

Sam is by your side in an instant, while Steve walked over to the tree, both eyeing the environment warily, Sam tucking you into his side as his eyes darted around.

When they crouched down to study the soil, they brushed away the dead leaves, revealing something.

A small footprint.


	13. Internal Conflicts

The compound goes into Sentry mode with iron-bots guarding and patrolling the area while FRIDAY is ordered to update the team of any suspicious irregularities if any.

They were in full-on protection mode as they formed a formation around you, dispersing only when Sam and Steve went to find Tony.

Except for Bucky, who was adamant about walking you to your room. 

There was a mixture of tension and something else in the air…

_Guilt? Shame? Self-blame?_

In all the time you’ve spent in the compound, it was the first time you saw him like this.

Sure, he was solemn and kept to himself most of the time, only interacting occasionally, but _this_ , this was different. 

His jaw is clenched tight when you walk beside him, his posture tense as if he was ready to attack if needed. A muscle in his jaw ticks and your fingers curl around his wrist as you pulled him to a stop.

“Hey,” you say, peering into his eyes. “You know it’s not your fault right?”

His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, gaze distant. Seconds pass by before he looks back at you, an unreadable expression sitting on his face. “Doesn’t matter.” 

His voice is rough and you know that he’s beating himself up, thoughts killing him from the inside.

“Well, it does.” You stared at him, desperate for your eyes to carry the weight of your words. “Don’t blame yourself okay? It wasn’t something you could control.”

You slipped your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze and hoping your words were convincing enough but then an idea popped into your head and you looked at him with a playful look in your eyes, complete with a grin. 

“You _can_ make it up to me you know.” 

His eyebrows twitched as his searching gaze ran over your face and you leaned in, almost like telling him a secret —

_“You can tell Nat to go easier on me during practice.”  
_

He blinked once, then twice before his eyes crinkled slightly. He squeezes your hand in response as he fights back a tiny smile. “Don’t think I can help with that.” 

...

It was difficult, knowing that his recklessness risked your safety. He should have used the indoor shooting range, should have known it wasn’t safe, should have known better than to bring you outside.

After all, you were staying _in_ the compound for a reason.

The guilt hung over the air as it followed him everywhere, even in his dreams and 

he dreamt of you.

_Happy; mouth curved into a wide grin, eyes crinkling in delight. He could hear the melodious tinkle of your laughter._

_You were happy, content. The cheekiness shining through your smiley-eyed grin._

_And then you flickered._

_The happiness faded away like a mask being ripped off of your face and it revealed hollow eyes and bloody tears._

_“I saved them for you, you know,”_

_Your nose started to bleed as well, and so did your ears. He reached out for you but couldn’t get anywhere near. He cried out your name in fear of the worst to come._

_And then a whisper,_

_“But you couldn’t save me.”_

He struggled to breathe, tangling himself in the sheets as he writhed in agony. 

The guilt was overwhelming.

_You couldn’t save me._

_…_

“Again!” Natasha called out.

You moved back to your original stance before running towards Natasha who easily dodged your punches before slamming you to the ground.

Clint sits on the mat with a bottle in his mouth. “Heard you managed to convince Tony to get some shut eye.”

“Mmhmm.”

Natasha runs through the mistakes you made and you mirror her stance as she adds in. “Tony? Sleep? What the hell did you say to him?” 

“Yeah, kid. What _did_ you say to him?”

You ran towards Natasha again, this time with a little more success but you still end up being slammed to the ground anyway.

“Nothing.” You pant out. “I just told him that he needed to sleep and gave him some juice.” 

“Juice?” Natasha pulled you up. “Damn. Rhodey and Pepper have been trying to get him to rest for the longest time and you managed it with... _juice_? Again!”

You recalled the encounter you had with Rhodey,

_Rhodey’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped as he stared at you. “Convinced? What–How?”_

_You felt the guilt gnaw at you. Tony probably had a meeting or something and you probably blew it._

_"I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that he was supposed to be meeting you but--” You bit your nail as you continued to explain. “He looked so tired so I brought him some juice and then told him to take a nap.”_

_“So you mean to tell me, that if I head in there right now, “ He pointed to Tony’s lab. “He’d be sleeping?”_

_“Snoring probably.” You shrugged, giving him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry if I ruined any meetings.”_

_He shook his head. “No, no. There are no meetings, don’t worry about it. I can’t believe it. I’ve been trying to convince this man to sleep for decades.”_

_He grinned and walked past you, slipping the file under the door before putting his ear on it._

_He listened for a minute before his grin became wider, giving you a big thumbs up._

You repeated the process with success at not being slammed onto the ground and you grinned in victory.

“So, you drugged the juice?” Clint asked.

“No, I didn’t drug the juice but...”

Clint raised his eyebrows in suspicion.

“Does alcohol count?” 

Natasha tapped your shoulder and as you turned to look, your feet is swept under and you slam onto the floor.

“Nope. Tony works a lot to keep his mind off things, it’s his way of coping.” She murmured.

“Coping? With what?”

“Bad memories, demons, whatever you call it. Everyone’s fighting something.” Clint explained.

You laid on the mat, fiddling with the watch Tony had given you.

_Everyone’s fighting something._

They stood over you with their hands out and you eyed them suspiciously.

“I swear to god if you both throw me against the wall, I’m going to scream.”

Clint laughs and Natasha puts a hand to her chin.

“That sounds fun actually. Why didn’t I think of that?” 


	14. Safe

He was afraid.

He wouldn’t admit it but he was. He could handle anything and everything, blood, bones, guns and death. 

But not _you_.

After the forest scare, he was afraid that his company would bring you trouble, asking Clint to take over him instead. 

He couldn’t bring himself to forget about the incident, choosing to ignore your plead to forgive himself as he drowned his thoughts with training and sparring. 

He didn’t want to risk anything else happening to you, no, _absolutely not_.

He was already responsible for so many deaths, he didn't want to be responsible for yours too. If anything happened under his watch, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself and no one would forgive him either. 

You were too loved, a tiny beacon of light you were.

He had seen you interact with the other avengers, so easy to be around and so fiercely loving and nurturing anyone that needed it, like -

  
how you interacted with Nurse Song, fussing over whether she had eaten and insisting that she joined you for breakfast right after she took care of your bloody nose,

how Nat perked up when you baked her brownies after you had noticed the slight change in her demeanour,

how you somehow convinced Tony to take a nap, a feat only Pepper achieved,

how forgiving you were when you tried to convince him that it wasn’t his fault.

It scared him,

knowing that you had spent years alone with no one to rely on except for yourself and yet here you were, recycling that loneliness into something positive and loving, something he struggled to do.

And so it resulted into further withdrawal; old habits of isolation and minimal eye contact, a familiar routine which bitterly reminded him of the Winter Soldier. 

If keeping you safe meant distance, then so be it.

…

He was stretched out on the sofa, a hand under his head as he stared lifelessly at the ceiling.

The nightmares were wearing him thin. A nightly mixture of guilt, fear and loss as his dreams overlapped with Hydra, the murders he committed and that stupid flickering tree.

It was almost 4 am and he couldn’t sleep at all. The walls of his room had closed in on him and he desperately needed some space, opting to lay on the couch in the common room as it gave him the peace that he needed.

His nightmares gave him a concert ending every night; sweaty, shaking or screaming.

Sometimes, it was a mixture of all three.

He heard the sound of footsteps and he frowned. No one should be awake at this hour and every cell in his body wanted him to get up and leave, to withdraw himself from human contact but those footsteps... he knew who they belonged to,

and so he didn’t.

_“Hey you.”_

Your voice, although soft, echoed through the common room as he shifted his focus.

You were looking at him from the top of the sofa, chin resting on the back of your hands. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Rough night?” 

He gave a small shrug, enjoying the soft gaze of your eyes.

“Wanna talk about it?” 

He pondered for a while, actually considering it. It made him think about his nightmares and it made his heart heavy because some were about you after all.

“Buck?” You whispered softly, the concern more evident on your face. 

“Not tonight.” He cleared his throat. “Why are you up?”

You shrugged, unable to explain why you suddenly woke up with the urge to bake some pancakes until...

“Pancakes.” 

There’s a hint of confusion on his face which you ignore, finally glad you found the reason why the thought of pancakes was screaming at you at 4 in the morning.

“I’m gonna make you some pancakes and you can’t say no!”

The corners of his mouth tilted up and he gave you a genuine smile. He wasn’t planning to anyway. 

“Sounds great.”

He watched your face disappear as he heard you move around the kitchen, softly humming to yourself. 

…

This was their second mission in months and this time, they had let you in on it.  
It was a HYDRA based mission and it was the longest one yet. 

Your stomach grew increasingly uneasy as the days stretched into weeks and when FRIDAY finally informed you of their estimated arrival, you had been so sleep-deprived that you fell asleep on the couch while waiting.

It was a successful mission compared to the last.

  
The team managed to take down the HYDRA base, turning in the agents to the relevant authorities. They were back safe and sound albeit bruised and hungry.

Heading towards the common room, they were surprised to find you curled on the single-seated sofa, blanket drawn around you.

“Should we wake her?” Tony whispered.

Unsure of what to do, they threw glances at each other until Clint quietly approached you.

“Kid?” He gently shook you awake until you blinked up sleepily.

“Clint? Thank god, is anybody hurt?”

“No, just some little cuts and bruises but -- Hey, why aren’t you in bed? You should be asleep.”

“I’m fine _dad_ ,” you teased. “I just wanted to be here just in case…”

Natasha joined him beside the sofa, mussing up your hair with a cheeky smile. “Hey, Smiles.”

“Hi Nat!” You replied with a yawn. “I wanted to be near just in case someone needed my help. FRIDAY told me you guys would be coming back today, so I ordered pizza too.”

“Did somebody say pizza?” Sam questioned as his head poked behind Natasha’s shoulder.

“Chicken Supreme, Hawaiian and Spicy Barbecue, plus a couple other things. I ordered a feast, you know, super-soldiers and all.” You replied, rubbing your eyes as you sat up.

“You,” he pointed as he bounced his way to the fridge. “...are my favourite. Did I ever tell you that?”

The rest of the team moved to the kitchen, shooting you grateful smiles as they talked about the mission while waiting for the food to heat up.

You smiled at Natasha and Clint, pushing them forward. “Go, I know you’re starving.”

She patted your cheek as she made her way to the rest while he gave you a quick kiss on the top of your head before joining her.

Steve and Bucky had hung back from the group, engaged in a serious conversation when they entered the room. The conversation ended when they both noticed you on the sofa.

“Smiles? Why are you still up?

“Just finishing a satanic ritual.” You shrugged. “Humour me, will you.”

Steve chuckled as he leaned over to ruffle your hair. “Go get some rest.”

“I will when…” You let out another yawn before you nodded. “You know what? That sounds good. Wake me up if you guys need anything okay?”

“Goodnight, kid.”

“Night.” You mumbled, standing up as Steve hunched down to give you a hug.

You moved to Bucky and absently gave him a hug as well, too sleepy to notice how he froze for a moment before you walked past the rest who offered you a round of ‘thanks’ and ‘goodnights’.

“Hey,” Steve called out to you.

You lingered outside the common room, blinking sleepily at him.

“Make sure you take some vitamins, okay?”

You gave a snort. 

_Vitamins? Really?_

Leave it to Captain America to say something like _take some vitamins._

“Yes, _dad_.” He grinned while he shook his head, taking a bite of his pizza as you gave him a fake salute.

“Hey, I thought _I_ was dad.” Clint interjects.

A mix of laughter and snorts fill the air and you walked away with the blanket drawn around your shoulder, a smile on your face.

  
_They were safe._


	15. Death Anniversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of PTSD, slight violence in nightmares, blood, implied suicidal tendencies & self-harm.

You looked up from your painting to study the bags around his eyes and bit your lip.

It had been darker than usual and you suspected that it was because of Riley.

The days were nearing his death anniversary and you could sense the slight change in Sam. Sure he was always joking around and making everybody laugh but you had caught on to the distant look to his eyes.

It was subtle but it was there.

You knew he talked to War Veterans about their PTSD and that he himself had served in Afghanistan. He had talked about it when he opened up to you about Riley and suddenly the ghost you saw in your living room had a name.

_But after the counsellor finishes talking to his patients, who would be the counsellor to the counsellor?_

Sensing your gaze, he gave you a small smile. “What’s on your mind Smiles? You know I’m always open.”

You were in your room painting and he had popped by to give you some company. Grinning, he proudly lifted up the drawing he was working on. 

“Does it look like Steve? It does huh?” 

You burst out laughing, it very much did look like Steve, except that he had exaggerated butt cheeks. 

“It looks great Sam. It really does.” You continued to paint in silence before you asked, “Sam, when was the last time you properly slept?”

His smile faltered and he looked to the cup of coffee he held in one hand. “A couple of days ago, but I’m fine. Really, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Seconds passed by before you can no longer contain your words. 

“It’s Riley, isn’t it?” You asked softly.

“Yeah,” he admitted, placing the coffee down. “It’s that time of the year again.” 

You rubbed his back soothingly and placed your head against his shoulder. 

“Wanna talk about it? You can tell me about your epic adventures with Riley while we eat pizza. I’ll even let you near my paint.”

He paused briefly before he nodded. 

“I’d like that.”  
  
…

Steve had his fair share of nightmares. 

Sometimes the haunting face of Red Skull would taunt him in his dreams, other times he fought the Winter Soldier who stood over the unmoving body of Peggy, bodies of the team scattered around them. 

Although it scared him, it wasn’t close to the horrors he knew Bucky faced, something you chided him about.

_“It doesn’t matter kid, they’re not as bad compared to -”_

_“Bucky’s I know. But Steve, this is not a competition. Your nightmares are just as valid as Bucky’s. Just because he has it ‘worse’, doesn’t mean that you aren’t allowed to be scared or hurt by yours. You’re still human Steve, super-soldier or not.”_

He liked it when you put it like that, it made him feel real, like he wasn’t just a superhero devoid of human feelings.

You were like an anchor, keeping him grounded while Sam was his first-mate, guiding him through the treacherous waves of the sea when things got too difficult.

_Sam._

The thought of Sam worried him. 

Lately the bags under his eyes were darker than usual, his easy-going demeanour fading into a sombre, zombie-like human.

When Steve approached you, it only took one name to make him understand.

_Riley._

He had made it a point to talk to Sam, letting him know that he was someone he could talk to, offering company if he wanted it but he usually declined, either making an excuse or withdrawing from everyone else completely.

The only thing Steve could do was to give him the time and space he needed to heal.  
  
…

It was three in the morning when he heard a loud crash.

Poking his head out of his room, he squinted into the darkness to see Bucky out as well.

“The hell was that?” he muttered.

They quietly made their way into the dim-lit common room as a sob broke the silence. Peering around the corner, they saw a shadow slumped against the glass divide of the balcony.

_Sam._

They ran to his side, pushing aside the bottles that surrounded him, the air of silence interrupted by little clinks. “Sam? Hey, hey, look at me.” 

The smell of alcohol was _piercing_.

“Steve? Wait, who’s this? Oh wait, Bucky my man!” His speech was slurred and it worried them about just how much he drank.

“Sam, are you hurt? What happened?” 

“S’nothing. Just broke a couple of bottles or so.” He gave a small hiccup before he continued. “Riley, never did like this type of beer.”

He laughed bitterly before tears rolled down his face. “It’s today, you know? He was supposed to be here with me, you know that?”

Steve and Bucky lifted him off of the floor, carefully navigating around the glass bottles before plopping him down onto the couch. There was something in the air and they could feel it on their hands… 

_Hot? Metallic? Something like..._

“FRIDAY, on the lights will you?” The lights came on and Bucky and Steve sucked in a breath,

_...blood._

there were gashes on his wrists. 


	16. Healing Mishaps II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of PTSD, slight violence in nightmares, blood, implied suicidal tendencies & self-harm.

“Huh? What? What’s wrong?” 

You groggily sat up in bed as a figure crouched beside you. “Sorry Smiles, but it’s Sam.” 

“Sam?” 

Realisation hits you like a sledgehammer when your eyes fall onto the alarm clock. “Fuck!”

You grabbed the blanket off of your bed before you were pulled by Bucky into the common room where Steve sat with Sam. Your eyes flickered to the blood on his hands and gasped.

“Oh no, no, no, no….”

Letting go of Bucky’s hand, you ran towards Sam, carefully placing the blanket over his hunched shoulders.

“Hey Sammy? Hey, it’s me.” You gently pried his hands away from him, holding them and making him face you as you pushed aside the tissue box to sit on the coffee table in front of him. “Sam, I’m here. It’s okay, I’m here.” 

“You... you know what today is don’t you?” 

You gently wiped away a tear, nodding. His eyes were laced with pain as he sobbed, his shoulders shaking before he leaned over and cried into your shoulder. “Hey, shhh. It’s okay Sam.” 

“It should have been me.” He cried out. 

“ _It should have been me._ ”

You rubbed his back, reaching as low as you could go over his hulking frame as he repeated the phrase over and over until his voice was hoarse. 

Steve and Bucky hovered beside you, standing with their arms crossed.

“Steve, take over for me will you?”

He nodded as he sat on the couch, rubbing Sam’s back in soothing circles. Gently placing your hands on his wrists, you let the warmth seep through your fingers as the gashes faded away.

“It’s okay, Sam. Shhh.” You let him cry on your shoulder a little bit longer before gently placing your fingertips on his temples, letting peace flow through them and having sleep carry him away. 

His body slumped against you but Steve and Bucky gently pulled him back before you got knocked off the coffee table. 

Steve tucked him into the sofa, drawing your blanket over him, catching a glimpse of his bloodied hands before he looked at you apologetically. 

“I’m sorry kid. I didn’t know who else to call.” 

“Well there’s Nurse Song, Dr Cho, Nurse Kim...” you said in a flat voice before cracking into a reassuring smile. “Are you kidding me? I’m glad you woke me up.”

“Thanks Smiles, I owe you one.”

You took a look at Sam’s sleeping figure, reaching out to readjust the blankets around him before you caught sight of your own blood-smeared palms.

You ran water over your hands, the blood turning into an orange tint when it touched the surface of the metal kitchen sink. You took this opportunity to splash some water on your face as well.

To wash the sleep from your eyes or to erase the image of the gashes on his wrists?  
  
You will never know.

Two steps out of the kitchen and blood drips from your nose, splattering onto the white tiles of the floor, making you curse into the silence of the common room.

Footsteps echo behind you and someone turns you by your shoulder, blue eyes peering into yours.

“Okay, up you go.” Bucky gently lifts you onto the kitchen counter and your face warms at the contact.

Nose bleeds were easy, you were used to it, it wasn’t - his metal hand gently holds your chin, the other hand gently pressing a wad of paper towels under your nose - something you couldn’t handle on your own.

Steve rustled a trash bag open before he glanced over, “Nosebleed?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m going to clear this mess up.” He motions to the balcony before his eyes moved to Bucky. “Take care of her.” 

He heads over to the balcony with the trash bag, gently placing the bottles inside as they clinked against each other.

Bucky’s frame towers over you despite being on the counter and your cheeks burn when he catches your eye.

It burned even more when it dawned on you that a grown man was holding a wad of paper towels under your bleeding nose. Of course, not embarrassing at all. 

_Spectacular. Absolutely fantastic._

You averted your eyes, studying the painting on the wall as you ignored how uncomfortably close he was. When he moved to grab more from the roll, you try to move out of his grasp but he stops you by throwing an arm around you.

“Stop,” he murmured as he placed a new batch of tissues under your nose. “You’re still bleeding.” 

“I’m fine, I get these all the time. Why don’t you and Steve bring Sam back into his room while I clean up?” You brightly suggested. 

His mouth twitched into a smile as he glanced at your feet. “You can’t, you’re not wearing any shoes.” 

Rolling your eyes, you looked pointedly at his feet. “You’re not wearing any either.” 

“I heal quick.” He shrugged before adjusting the paper towels under your nose. “Plus Steve already beat you to it.”

Moments passed by as you looked around the room before catching his eye once again.

“I’m sorry,” you start, sending him a sheepish look. “For troubling —“

A strangled sound interrupts you before Sam whimpered and called out Riley’s name in his sleep. He sounded so helpless, the pain in his cry a reminder that you couldn’t do much for him.

You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes on the floor as the image of his wrists resurfaced, burning an everlasting image in your brain.

“Hey.” 

Keeping your breaths controlled, your eyes were glassy when you gazed up at him. 

“He’s going to be okay.” 

You nodded, trying to blink away the tears but they roll down your cheeks anyway. “I just…”

He gently wipes them away, one hand still holding the paper towels under your nose and it comes out as a whisper. “I just don’t want him to hurt himself again.” 

Hesitantly, he draws you in to him, a hand rubbing your back to comfort you while you cried into his hoodie. Your arms are around his neck and it keeps you grounded, keeps you from falling into the dark abyss of loss while he whispers softly into your hair. 

_“He’s going to be okay.”_

You stayed like that until the tear ducts ran dry before using the back of your hand to brush away the remaining tears.

Your face warmed as you once again avoided his eyes, momentarily distracted by a tickling warmth above your lips.

“I’m sorry.” You laughed shakily when you realised that your nose was still bleeding. “I think there’s blood on your hoodie now.”

For a moment, his gaze lingered on your face, and then he drew a deep breath as his hand hovered beside your head, fingers careful as they gently, so _gently,_ tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

It’s almost like something snaps in him and warning signals go off in his head, mentally shaking himself as a voice at the back of his head screams, ”What are you doing!”

Gathering more paper towels, he shoots you a wink to mask any emotions before he goes back to holding the tissue under your nose.

  
“Don’t worry, there’s a reason I wear black.” 


	17. Sleepless Nights & Lullabies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of PTSD, slight violence in nightmares, blood, implied suicidal tendencies & self-harm.
> 
> Song mentioned: Sometimes You're the Hammer, Sometimes You're the Nail by A Day to Remember

In the years he had been alive, he had seen a lot of things.

Landmarks, celebrities, politicians, spoke close to 30 languages and could make a weapon of almost anything, yet, one of the rare things he had never seen was someone laughing after they cried.

Only Nathaniel, who was no doubt still a child. He had heard it when Clint would call his family, Nathaniel crying in the background before Clint would say something that would make him laugh, and even then, he could only imagine. 

But babies don’t count. 

So why exactly did he find you mesmerising after you had pulled back from his hoodie? Was it the tear-streaked face, the bloodied nose or the radiant eyes which had acquired an irresistible charm?

 _It’s those damn eyes,_ he thought. _They’ll be the death of me, I swear._

The night you first arrived, he had studied you from afar. Building a profile of you piece by piece, something he had done with everyone, an old habit derived from the Winter Soldier days. 

As much as he wanted to push it behind him, some habits remained, forming an armour of familiarity around him as he hung on to things he was sure of.

He noticed the way you stared at something quietly and unmoving when you were sleepy, how you bit your lip when you were in thought and your nail when you were nervous, noticed how you somehow knew what they needed, what they craved for, producing candy bars or muffins from the pouch of your hoodie when they least expected it.

It was like a special talent that only you had.

And thus, when you bit your lip, he already knew an idea was forming in your head, an idea that Steve and him would agree to for the next few nights.  
  
**…**

You stared at the ceiling that night, replaying the past events over and over again like a broken record player.

It felt like you had failed Sam, that you weren't there when he needed it the most, that your distractions weren’t enough, that maybe, just maybe you should have organised some sort of sleepover so that he wouldn’t be alone or perhaps camped outside his door just in case he needed company.

_You should have done better._

There were a million things you wished you did, guilt eating away at you as it whispered tauntingly in your ear.

 _It could have been prevented._ _It could have been prevented. It could have been prevented._

Sam was the anchor that grounded people, always offering his help when they needed someone to talk to, but under the goofy facade he portrayed, he was just as broken as anyone of them and so who would be there for him then?

_You could have lost him._

You had seen the bottles gathered in the balcony and you knew that the thought of suicide ran through his head, but he _didn’t_.

You turned to your side as you sobbed into a pillow, trying to muffle out the sound of your cries. 

_You_

_could_

_have_

_lost_

_Him._

**…**

_“Riley!”_

_You hear an agonising scream as the blast of an RPG fills the air, the colour red against a black sky, the engines of wings whirring as you feel the rush of the wind through your hair._

_Fear blossomed into your chest, followed by a wave of despair,_

_and then a knowing cry,_

_He was gone._

“...need to wake up!”

You shot up from the couch, clawing at your throat as you gasped for air. A metal hand reaches out to peel your hands from your throat and you flinch.

“You’re safe, it’s okay, Hey,” he whispered, crouching in front of you as he peered into your face. “Breathe for me, can you do that?” 

Your hands trembled against the cool metal of his as you nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks as you attempted to take slow deep breaths.

You swallowed hard, eyes glancing around as you grounded yourself with the familiarity of the common room. “Sam? Is he…Where —”

“He’s safe in his room.”

You sighed as you brushed a hand over your face, struggling to erase the nightmare that painted itself across your eyelids.

In the day, you offered Sam the space he needed. You pretended as though nothing happened, giving him a clean slate just in case he wanted to talk to you. 

At night, you joined Steve and Bucky in the common room, a shared precaution between the three of you.

Using the back of your hand to wipe away the tears, you took slow, deep breaths before you opened your eyes to see concern in his. 

“I’m sorry, I probably disturbed you didn’t I?” 

“Don’t be, I was awake throughout.”

In truth, he was watching over you as you slept, worried about other possible healing mishaps that might occur along the way.

He wasn't sure how it worked but he knew that nosebleeds were only a tiny part of it.

He watched as you produced a tangled mess of wires, expertly untangling them before you handed him a side.

“There’s a song I listen to...whenever I get nightmares. Might help you when have yours.” 

You gave the seat beside you a tentative pat. “Better make yourself comfy.”

He sat beside you, surprised when you scooted closer to bridge the gap between.

Scrolling through your playlist to find the song, you lowered the volume just in case, unsure of how he would react to post-hard core rock. 

As the song started, he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the angry screaming but his eyes softened when it reached the part you wanted him to listen to.

 _I reserve my right to feel uncomfortable reserve my right to be afraid,_  
_I make mistakes and I am humbled every step of the way,_  
_I want to be a better person I wanna know the master plan._  
_Cast your stones, cast your judgement, you don't make me who I am._

You scrunched your nose as you watched his reaction when the song ended.

“You hated it didn’t you?”

“Well, not exactly. It’s just...different.” He scratched the back of his ear as another song played through the earpiece. “Can you um, play it again?”

You grinned as you played the song for the second time, waving at Steve who finally joined you in the common room.


	18. Internal Conflicts II

“So…”

There was whirring of metal as he clenched his vibranium fist. Bruce picked up the screw driver, tightening a bolt before tapping his arm. 

“So, what?”

Bruce gave a shrug as he calibrated the metal appendage. “You’re good to go Barnes.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

Bruce swivelled in his chair, rolling over to his desk to discard the screw driver before turning back to him. 

“Word around the compound is that you’ve been chirpier more than usual-” His eyes narrowed before Bruce continued. “-It’s a good sign really, you know...progress…”

“Spit it out, Banner,” he growled. “What are you trying to say?”

Bruce simply raised his hands up in defence. “I’m not trying to say anything, just that hanging around the kid might do ‘ya some good. She has that effect on everyone and she’s great, really. The best, a keeper.”

He grunted in response.

Of course you were, and as much as he didn’t want to admit, it was true. He _was_ smiling more often.

It was hard not to, your smile being the most infectious thing on earth and your laugh, oh god it sounded so dorky but he loved it. 

“Take care of her, will you? You know how stubborn she can be with the nosebleeds and all.”

He frowned but nodded anyway.

There was a knock on the door before your head popped in, “Bruce? Oh, sorry. I’ll just…”

His eyes softened, all the tension he didn’t even realised he carried, evaporating into thin air. “No, I was just leaving anyway.” He ducked his head as he passed you.

_Take care of her._

He paused when you grabbed his arm.

Balancing a smoothie cup in your arm, he heard a wrinkle of plastic as you produced an Aunt Mabel’s Caramel Muffin from the front pouch of your hoodie, plopping it into his hand with a smile.

You squeezed his arm before entering the lab with a grin.

“Bruce, I present to you, _hydration_.”

Bruce chuckled just before he launched into a summary of what he was working on.

You really were the best.  
  
…

He liked the way you played around with the huge sleeves of his hoodie, flopping them around in delight and occasionally whacking people with it.

You caught his eye once and you didn’t turn away. Instead, you shot him a mischievous smile and it made his insides feel funny.

“You know this is way too comfortable to give back right?” 

The corners of his mouth quirked up. “It’s all yours.”

He liked that; the thought of you in his hoodie. It made his heart _flutter_.

It was an odd feeling, something he had not felt in a long time and it left him in conflict, not knowing whether it was simply admiration or something more. 

It left him in awe,

the way you picked yourself up after putting yourself through nosebleeds, fevers and fainting spells, brushing it off as if it were nothing.

Never hesitating to go through it all over again the moment someone needed help.

The way you were so selfless in loving people and in showing that you cared. The little things not going unnoticed,

like when you listened and picked up where Bruce had trailed off because he thought that no one was listening or when you disappeared for hours, only to learn that you spent hours sitting with Tony.

You even went as far as cooking with Rhodey and being his taste-tester no matter how bad it got. He never actually saw it but he had heard the stories from Sam.

The kindness of your soul radiated through your eyes and it made you the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on, and realisation dawned on him that he would do anything to keep that smile on your face.

It made him not want to hide anymore, to not be in isolation.

He saw how you were with others, a sunshine amongst the clouds and suddenly he felt hope for himself, a sense of redemption in wanting to become a better person.

He was Icarus and you were the sun, and he wanted your affection, longing to bask in the warmth of the love you so freely gave the others, not giving a second thought to being burnt.

He bit his knuckles nervously, the answer to his internal conflict was clear now.


	19. Circus

Weeks had passed since then and it seemed that your worry was an unlimited waterfall.

Sam was still withdrawn and distant and you so desperately wanted him to reach out to you, to let you know how he was doing and what he was thinking about but you knew only time could heal the wounds carved so deeply in his heart and so you settled for encouraging smiles and shoulder squeezes that told him _'I'm here for you'_.

“You’re being very quiet today. What’s going on?” Natasha nudged you with her shoulder and you shook your head as you stared at the food on your plate. 

“Same old thoughts, just worried about Sam, about you guys.” 

She pulls you into a headlock, ruffling your hair with force. “Aren’t you the sweetest thing.”

She purses her lips and pretends to kiss your head with a loud smack and you laughed as you pushed her away. She was acting different today, but it was _Nat_. You never knew what to expect with her.

“Come on, why don’t we go get some fresh air?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Is that really a good idea?”

“Oh don’t be a spoilsport, I’ll be with you anyway.” You masked the confusion with a smile.

It was unlike her to be reckless, but you followed her anyway, enjoying the thrill. It was only when the door opened and the sunlight touched the both of you that you saw it,

the slight flicker in her hair.

You make it off as you fiddling with your watch but you prayed that you pressed the right button and hoped that the rest would come soon. 

With her hands on her hips, she let the sun soak in before she turned back to you with a grin.

“See? Doesn’t it make you –“

You cut her off by plunging the knife into her side, praying to god you were right as she dropped to her knees with a gasp.

If anything, Bucky _was_ right. You should always carry a knife on you at all times.

**…**

“Mutants?” Rhodey deadpanned. 

This was not the weirdest thing he has heard or seen but it annoyed him, having another weird thing added to the list of weird things.

What's next aliens? _Oh wait, been there, done that._

“Yeah, mutants. There’s been reports of them coming out lately but they always disappear.” Tony muttered. “I’m beginning to think I’d rather fight Loki on this one.” 

Thor smiled, satisfied with himself, he was back from Asgard and was right after all: Loki wasn’t involved at all.

“Amazing. Absolutely amazing. They have enhanced capabilities that are beyond our imagination.” Bruce mumbles in awe.

They sifted through news archives to find reports of an ‘invisible man’ and another of a man who could push and shoot spikes out of his body.

**Mr Stark, Miss Wiley has activated the ‘Damsel in Distress’ protocol and has requested immediate assistance on the ground floor of the compound.**

FRIDAY pulled up the surveillance footage showing how you stabbed Natasha. When ‘Natasha’ falls to the ground, she fades away into a boy who is holding his bloodied side.

“What the fuck?” Rhodey stammered.

They rushed out of the office immediately, hearts beating at a ready.

“FRIDAY, inform every hero in the compound to meet us there with their weapons ASAP.” 

…

“Jesus Christ, why did you do that?”

The iron-bots fly down surrounding the boy, metal hands aimed at him. Clint and Bucky reach you first, Steve following close behind. 

Clint stands in front of you, his bow trained on the boy while Bucky wraps an arm around you protectively, angling you away from the boy. Steve joins you on the other side with his shield, forming a protective triangle around you.

The others arrived shortly and you thanked god for Tony’s watch. It was an odd sight, seeing how everyone was in normal t-shirts and sweatpants with their weapons in hand. Sam and the real Natasha arrived last, their faces twisted in worry.

“Romanoff, where were you?” Tony asked over his shoulder, an iron hand aimed towards the ground.

“I was with Sam, what’s going on?”

“Who is this kid?” Steve gestured questioningly to the boy. He was on the ground, pale and sweaty as he clutched his side. 

“I’m not the bad guy, I swear man.” He breathed out. ”She’s the one who freaking stabbed me.” 

“Yeah? And you’re the one running an imposter show, buddy.” Tony counters. 

“I can explain.” He says through gritted teeth. “Just, just talk to Professor X, he’ll tell you everything.”


	20. The Xavier Institute

An elderly, bald man sits in front of the screen, his face is solemn and wizened with age. His voice is deep, calm and collected as its rumbled across the room.

“The Xavier Institute for Higher Learning or formerly known as the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, was established as a shelter for young mutants alike to learn and harness their capabilities.”

_Mutants?_

Tony stared at his holographic form in annoyance. “Yeah, and you couldn’t drop us an email or something? A leaflet? A brochure?” He muttered sarcastically.

“I apologise for the scare, Mr Stark but it was important for us to explore the extent of her powers through various simulations. For the safety of my students and yours.” Professor X calmly explained. 

“She has showed tremendous potential and I would like to offer her a place in my school.” His eyes remained passive as he looked back at Tony.

“Tony, just Tony. And they’re not my students,” Tony huffed out. “So the attempted kidnapping, the facility, the forest scare? That was all you?” 

Professor X nods and gives him an apologetic smile. “I do apologise for the rogue misfire of one of my students.”

“You shot one of my men!” 

“And you _stabbed_ one of mine.” There’s an amused tone in Professor X’s voice.

Rhodey puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder, who sits down in frustration. “With all due respect, Professor X. You’ve given us _quite_ a scare.”

“I understand and I apologise. You must understand the efforts I have taken to not risk the lives of my students?”

“I do, we do.” Rhodey sighed. “It’s just, a lot to take in right now. Just a while ago, we thought people like you didn’t exist and now...”

Everyone gathered around the MEDbay, sitting on beds, chairs and on weird looking contraptions, watching through the glass panels as Tony and Rhodey spoke with Professor X. 

Bucky, Clint and Steve stayed close to you, each eyeing the boy warily; Clint leaning against the wall, Steve sitting by his feet and Bucky sitting in front of you as you perched on the hospital bed beside the boy.

“You are not taking my kid, into your school!” Tony shouted.

You bit your lip uncomfortably. Tony’s eyes were raging and the veins in his neck and forehead were popping out. You’ve never seen him so riled up before. His voice fades from behind the glass when Rhodey takes over.

“Must be nice.” The boy says, with a nod to Tony. 

“Hmm?” You wrapped up the healing session, making sure the wound was thoroughly patched up before pulling his shirt back down.

Bucky quietly passes you some gauze right before your nose starts to bleed, fingers brushing against each other as a rush of static tickles your fingertips.

He puts his hand back under his chin, expression unreadable before his attention goes back to the boy.

“To have a dad.” The boy explained. “I’m Luke and um, I’m sorry if I scared you, I never thought anyone could see past Professor X’s manipulated reality.”

He couldn’t have been older than a 13-year old and you felt guilty for stabbing him. 

“Oh no, Tony’s not, he’s not my dad.”

He nodded understandingly. “Family?”

“Something like that.”

“Oh, hey um, your boyfriend has a cool arm by the way.” Luke looks at it in awe, before looking at Bucky. “What does it do?”

You feel your face warm up as Clint and Steve shared a look from the corner of your eye.

“Why don’t you poke it with a stick to find out?” You joked, as the corner of Bucky’s mouth quirked up. 

“Then it will be on her own accord!” Tony yells.

Professor X nods his head in agreement. “Of course. Again, apologies to the team for the grave misunderstanding. I wish you well. Luke, you may return.”  
  
…

You frowned.

Mom and dad never told you anything about healing, not much anyway.

Just that you had to keep it low key and that under no circumstance were you to show it or use it on anyone in school. 

“Nothing. They didn’t mention anything about being mutants, just that I had to keep my powers a secret.”

Tony swivelled in the chair as you did the same. The MEDbay was now empty, the rest having gathered in the common room to unwind. He paused, tapping a finger to his chin. “It’s just weird, Smiles. Professor Baldy coming to find you and all.”

You gave a half-shrug, knowing what he meant. Professor X didn’t seem to be the type to go around picking strays off the street, but then again, you weren’t sure who he was exactly. 

You huffed out a sigh. The world was becoming increasingly weirder and it was overwhelming to say the least.

“It’s like I don’t know who I am anymore…am I even...human?”

The word ‘mutant’ sounded foreign to you, just as foreign as the word ‘recruit’ and it didn’t sit well with you, just what were the odds of professor X finding you anyway?

“You’re still our Smiles, kid. Always will be, human or not.” There was a slurp before he added on. “And you’ll always have a spot in this family, you should know that.”

 _Family_. 

The chair squeaked in protest as you continued to swivel around. Family was something you lacked after your parents had died, something you craved for when you saw your schoolmates get picked up by their parents after school or when they got teased by their siblings. Something you didn’t think was possible,

  
until now.

 _Family_. 

“Is it selfish?” You blurt out, you looked over at Tony, who raised an eyebrow in question. “If I - I want to stay?”

“Well, I can’t be the judge of that. I mean just what exactly does it mean to be-?”

**Mr Stark, Mrs Potts has requested your assistance in the common room.**

“-selfish. Well, that’s my cue. I’ll leave you to your thoughts kid, you’ve got an important decision to make.”

Swallowing hard, you left the chair, opting for a hospital bed instead before flopping on to it, your legs dangling as you processed your thoughts.

You would choose to stay, there was no doubt in that. You were a recruit after all, their 'Smiles' and they treated you like a family.

__Family_._

_Was it selfish choice?_ You bit your nail. _Or a smart choice?_

The true extent of your healing capabilities were not explored yet and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were placing them in harm’s way.

_What if my healing goes wrong and they get hurt?_


	21. Decisions, decisions

“Stark.”

His posture was straight, shoulders tensed before he nodded at Tony who was making his way up the stairs. 

“Barnes.”

They passed by each other, air thick with tension, as he kept his head ducked down. He could only breathe when he entered the MEDbay. 

Things weren’t getting better between them but it wasn’t getting worse either. They had managed to keep it civil and he respected Tony’s boundaries and choices, keeping to himself during gatherings and trying as much as possible to not be in the same room as him.

Despite the state of turmoil, he was grateful for the second chance at life, having been taken under the Avenger’s Initiative despite the heinous crimes he committed under Hydra.

_A sense of hope._

The first thing he saw was the top of your head on the hospital bed, followed by the familiar nipping at your finger nail.

He made it a point to make his footsteps louder, making you angle your head towards him, a brief flicker of question flashing through your eyes before you smiled at him.

In truth, he wasn’t sure why he was here either. (At least that’s what he told himself.)

“You okay?”

“Mmhmm.” 

He watched as you sat up, glancing over your shoulder while you patted the space beside you. Hesitantly, he joined you on the bed, eyes briefly flickering to your hand that was inches away from his. 

You sat in silence, the stress radiating off of you and he fought off the urge to pull you into his arms, settling for words instead.

“You still have time to think about it.”

You glanced up at him, nail still in between your teeth when you nodded.

“I know. I just don’t want to make a decision where you guys get hurt because of me.”

His fingers twitched, fighting the urge off once again until he finally gave in. He drew a deep breath as his arm reached out, drawing you gently against his side.

_This was comforting right?_

His heart pounded against his chest when you snuggled into his shoulder, and if you heard it, he was glad you didn’t mention anything.

“You won’t.”  
  
…

You studied the way Sam and Natasha danced around each other in the kitchen, there was something blooming between the both of them, you could tell. But aside from that, you were glad he was here. 

_Safe,_ in the company of family.

He disappeared for awhile and had kept to himself after the incident but it was progress.

 _Baby steps_.

Not only that, for the first time ever, Bucky and Tony were in the same room. It was something you noticed when you first arrived but it seemed personal so you never did ask.

It was a sign of progress, nonetheless.

You smiled at the sight of this little family that you gained the last few months. You wouldn’t trade them for anything and you couldn’t bring yourself to leave them.

You loved them too much to do so. 

There was a nudge on your foot from underneath the table and you blinked as you tried to place the perpetrator. The corner of Bucky’s lips twitched, and you nudged back, a slow smile spreading across your face as a finalised thought came to mind.

If it was selfish,

So be it.


	22. That one word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of slight violence in nightmares, blood & self-harm.

_There was a flash of light._

_Your mom sat on the chair, eyes dripping with blood, your dad slumped against her legs, his eyes dripping with blood as well._

_Your arm stung, trembling as words were carved onto your skin by an invisible force._

_S_

_E_

_L_

_F_

_I_

_S_

_H_

_They stared at you, unmoving before their mouths slowly curved up into a smile._

_You screamed._

You gasped and sat up in bed, chest heaving at the nightmare.

You checked your arm with trembling hands as the tears ran down your face. It was warm and wet and instantly you knew you had done something to yourself during the nightmare.

Your thoughts were a mess and you didn’t think, didn’t hesitate, as you placed a hand over the injured arm, warmth seeping through your fingers as you patched yourself up.

_Selfish._

In the bathroom, you splashed cold water on your face, hoping it would wash away the memory of the nightmare but when you looked up at the mirror, you see the reflection of your mother standing behind you just as you had seen her in your dreams; eyes dripping with blood, her mouth curved into a smile.

You screamed, knocking over your glass toothbrush holder as you fell onto the floor crying. You see her bloodied feet and you pushed yourself to the corner of the bathroom, ignoring the pinch of the glass shards as they pierced your hands.

_Selfish._

You pulled your knees up and wrapped your arms around them, burying your face in the space between as the nightmare wrapped itself around your thoughts. 

_Selfish._

When hands touch you, your heart lurches and you scream in fear. “Don’t touch me!”

“It’s me, it’s okay, it’s me.”

A familiar voice called out your name, followed by the sound of glass being swept aside and you lifted your head to see steel blue eyes staring back at you. 

“Bucky?” 

He was crouching on the floor in front of you, carefully taking your trembling hands as he slowly turned them over to reveal a mess of blood and glass. 

You leaned forward, your head against his chest and you cry. You had been so caught up by blind panic that you completely disregarded the fact that there was a reason healers didn’t heal themselves.

He carefully wraps his arms around you as you sob, sinking into the comfort of his arms. “I saw her...she was behind me, I saw her…” Your voice is muffled in his chest and he holds you tight, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I saw her...”

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s not real.” 

Footsteps run into the room as Sam and Steve stopped at the bathroom doorway, they see the blood smeared across the white tiles and the shiny glass shards and it doesn’t take them long to figure out what happened.

“FRIDAY, is Nurse Song around?”

**Unfortunately, none of the medical staff have stayed over since today is their scheduled day off.**

Sam cursed. “I’ll go get help.”

“I’ll get a first aid kit.”


	23. Crystal Hearts & Bloody Shards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of slight violence in nightmares, blood & self-harm.

Nat and Bruce hold a hand each, sitting on the floor in front of you as they slowly picked away at the smaller pieces of glass with metal forceps. The pieces clinked against the metal tray that Sam held while you sat in silence.

“Steve, can you move the light slightly left?” 

Steve crouched beside Bruce, adjusting his flashlight while Clint and Bucky sit on either side of you, providing support.

Clint had his arm around your shoulders whilst Bucky’s arm hovered lightly around your waist. The weight of their arms anchored you, keeping you grounded as you recalled how vivid she was.

Her bloody tears, her curved smile; it was all too real. _How could you have forgotten?_ And she stood oh so close to you that if you reached out, your hands would probably find flesh.

“Kiddo, what’s wrong?”

You were snapped out from your thoughts by Bruce, who peered worriedly into your face. You hadn’t realised your hands were trembling. 

Your mouth opened and closed, the inability to talk overcomes you until you feel a light squeeze on your arm. “We...healers don’t heal themselves.”

They gave you encouraging smiles as they urged you to go on. “We try not to. If we do...we see the ones who have passed.”

You take a shaky breath before you continue. “They're more vivid than the ones I see when I heal others.”

They paused, a puzzle clicking in place as they recalled the medical evaluation done by the mental hospital you were sent to as a kid.

“Who did you see, bean?”

“My mom.” You breathed. “I...I saw her in my nightmare and I did something to myself when I was under so I healed myself and…and when I looked in the mirror, she was _there.”_ Your voice shook and you swallowed hard to keep the tears back, you took a deep breath before you continued.

“Sometimes, when I see them, I get nightmares about what happened or distorted ones. Sometimes, they leave me messages like-”

You meet Steve’s eyes just as realisation dawned on him when he recalled the night you healed the gash on his arm.

“-when I saw _her._ She told me that you still owed her a dance.”

The shock is evident in Steve’s face as he sits on the ground. “Peggy…” 

“And _him,_ during the times I patched you up _._ ” Sam swallows hard, momentarily disabled by what you just said, he lowered the metal tray as he processed your words. 

_Riley_.

Natasha and Bruce shared a look before gently wrapping up your palms. “Nurse Song will clean these up tomorrow morning. Do you want us to stay? We can have a little sleepover.” 

You opened your mouth to speak but you didn’t know what to say. _Would it be selfish to say yes?_

There it was again, the word that burrowed its roots inside the depths of your mind. 

_Echoing. Taunting. Whispering.  
_

You weren’t sure if you could ever go back to sleep but you weren’t planning on it either. Sensing your unease, Sam answers for you. “It’s settled, I’ll get some snacks from the pantry and the rest of you guys are in charge of building the fort.”

You opened your mouth to argue but you are stopped before you could even speak. “You can’t fight us on this one, Smiles. You know you would do the same thing.”

There’s a murmur of agreement before they break away to grab pillows, blankets and mattresses for the fort, leaving you on the couch with Bucky.

You stared at your wrapped palms as you tried to come up with a plan. What usually worked for you was to stay up during the night and sleep during the day or to sleep with an eye mask on and music to drown out the messages but you weren’t even sure how you were going to manage with these mummified hands.

You glanced at Bucky, aware of the dark circles around his eyes and you felt guilty.

“I’m sorry if I woke you.” You said in a small voice. “I know how sleep is a rare commodity for you…”

“You’re always apologising, you don’t need to.” His eyes flickered from your palms to your eyes, his arm still around you as his thumb lightly caressed your side. “What’s on your mind?”

You tell him about your plan and he nods.

“I’ll stay up with you.”

“But you don’t have to.” 

“You’ve done it for Sam and you would have done it for me.” 

It’s true and you know you can’t argue with him, settling to lean against his shoulder instead as the rest spread out blankets. 

That night, everyone slept in the fort. An odd sight indeed as Bruce slept next to Steve, Steve next to Sam, Sam with his arms around Natasha, and Clint, who was snoring softly. 

Your ears were alert but your eyes fought to keep themselves open. It was so tempting to give in to the comfort of sleep but the image of the nightmare swirled around in your mind.

You could almost see a shadow hovering outside the fort, a hand reaching out and your heart quickened.

_Echoing. Taunting. Whispering._

“You still awake?” His voice was low among the snores of Bruce and Clint.

“Mmhmm.” You turned to lay on your side, it was hard to see in the dark, but when your eyes adjusted, you could see him on his back, inches away from you.

“How are your hands?” 

“Useless…and cold.”

He turned to his side as well, tugging the blanket around you to make sure your hands were covered. “Better?”

“Mmhmm,” your voice was a mere whisper now and he knew you would sleep soon enough. “Thanks, Buck.”  
  
…

When the morning light shone through the windows, you turned to move, only to tense up when you realised that you couldn’t.

Your head was on his shoulder, face buried in the crook of his neck and his arms were around you in an iron-tight grip.

You blushed hard, thankful that everyone else had probably woken up and left, although you were sure they had probably seen this.

Sighing, you relaxed into his embrace and reached up to gently brush away a strand of hair that had fallen onto his face. You pulled your hand back when he pulled you closer and nuzzled your hair, your face growing warmer.

 _How_ you ended up in that intimate position, you will never know.

Not that you were complaining but, you never did give your feelings an in-depth analysis. While you did notice that he was increasingly becoming more affectionate, it made you question what his intentions were.

_Surely he’s doing it in the kindness of his heart? You would do the same, no doubt._

Your thoughts wandered to the time he held the tissues up to your bloody nose, how he let you cry into his hoodie, blood and tears and all. You felt _safe._ How he was always near when you needed help...

_Hmm..._

Or the time he checked on you when everyone had left, how nervous you were until he pulled you against him, a comforting gesture that didn’t stop the little butterflies in your stomach. 

_Could it be?_

You felt safe around him, protected and he did give you butterflies sometimes, but he was an attractive guy, surely you weren’t the only one...

You frowned, knowing that it was _impossible_ yet here you were, his arms around you, holding you tightly against him. 

Gazing up at him, you saw how relaxed and peaceful he was in his sleep, the usual weariness was absent. There was a tug on your heart when you wondered how many sleepless nights he had, wishing this happened more if it meant for him to get sleep.

Snuggling closer, you pushed aside your thoughts, ready to be explored on another day.

For now, this was nice.

_Really nice._


	24. Sweatpants & Friendship Bracelets

Bruce sat on the mattress looking through a newspaper while you sat on the couch, busy with a friendship bracelet.

The past few days had been a mass of continuous sleepovers. They would gather in your room to talk and eat before sleeping over and as a result, everyone slept better with a record of zero nightmares.

Eyebrows were raised and teasing looks were shot when they’d wake up and somehow find you entangled with Bucky.

Both of you never mentioned anything about it, but every morning without fail, you would somehow find your way to him.

He stood by you, offering support when he brought you to Nurse Song to have your palms patched up. You were mortified when Nurse Song glanced at him when she advised you to keep away from ‘hand-related activities’.

_Well, she would have a fit if she saw me with these._

“So, what are you gonna do?” Bruce asked, breaking the silence.

You knew what he was referring to yet you couldn’t help avoid the question. 

_You wanted to stay._

You would never give them up for anything yet there was a voice at the back of your head that whispered for you to leave before you got any of them hurt.

“I don’t know. My body says stay but my mind tells me go.” You joked. “I don’t know which to listen to.”

He looked up from the newspaper, looking at you with a kind smile. “And what does your heart say?” 

You dropped the finished bracelet in your lap, fiddling with it as you sighed in defeat. “It tells me that I’m selfish for staying.” 

“It’s okay, sometimes we need to make selfish decisions.” Turning back to his newspaper, you fumbled around for the bracelet you made him, placing it on your palm as you offered it to him.

He picked it up carefully, as if it was a glass piece, his eyes wide as he marvelled at the intricacies. “This is really good, Smiles! Where did you learn?”

You shrugged, suddenly feeling shy. “I learnt a thing or two while I was in the hospital. It stretches just in case you need to change.” 

He studied the dainty black, friendship bracelet covered in little green and purple fists, just as Clint shuffled in with a mug and a large plate of food which he places on the kitchen counter.

“Clint, look at this.” He sauntered over, taking a sip of his drink before examining the bracelet.

“Holy shit! Do I get one too?”

“About that, I might have forgotten about yours.” 

You enjoy the way he pouts and gives you sad puppy dog eyes while you dramatically fumbled around for his before finally dropping it into his palms. Similar to Bruce’s, it’s a black band with purple birds flying. 

“Absolutely fantastic! You know, for a minute there I really thought you forgot about your old man.” He grins widely before putting it on. 

“Never.”

“You know everyone’s gonna want one right?”

You gave the front pocket of your hoodie a pat. “I came prepared.”

...

The friendship bracelet hugged Tony’s wrist as he pressed some buttons on an odd-looking machine before gesturing to it.

“Hop in, kid. FRIDAY, start taking her measurements.” 

You cautiously stepped into it as the device whirred to life. The light scanned your body as Tony tapped on a few buttons, pulling up suits and materials before pushing them aside.

After it was done, you gave Tony a questioning look and he hesitates for a moment before sighing. 

“Well, since you may or may not be leaving us, I thought maybe you could join us on a mission, you know, for a last rodeo with the Avengers?”

“Tony,” you said flatly. “I’m not leaving.” 

“I know, but I just want you to have options. The freedom of choice.” He explained. “Plus, it’ll be a great story to tell.” 

“And so, you’re making me a suit?”

“Well, you can’t go on missions in sweatpants,” he huffed. “You’ll be easy to stab. Leather however, makes it much more difficult. I know, I’ve tried.” 

You shoot him another questioning look.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be like Nat’s suit for the time being.” He gave you a shrug before pausing. “That is, until I get a more solidified idea.”

You blinked once, then twice, taking awhile for you to process before attacking him a hug. 

“Thank you Tony, really. For everything.” 

He awkwardly pats your head, shooing you out of his lab with a pink tinge on his cheeks.


	25. Pointy Things

You could hear the echoes of a light banter as you approached the gym.

When you entered, you saw an amused Clint perched on the monkey bars while Natasha and Bucky were engaged in some sort of animated conversation, a strange sight indeed.

You approached them warily, taking a curious look at the spread on the floor.

They turned to face you and you couldn’t help noticed the slight wardrobe change. Bucky had his hair tied up in a bun today while Natasha had hers in a ponytail. This was _not_ good.

Natasha sees your pale face and she rushes to explain before you can run out of the gym.

“Hear us out kid. You like to paint right?” You nod slowly and her eyes sparkled, gesturing to the spread in a grand manner. “Well, we’re gonna play with _knives_.”

You gulped at the wide array of pointy weapons neatly arranged in the cloth. So many pointy things, so many possible injuries.

“Nat,” You began slowly. “I don’t see how this is related to painting but I am not going to be painting with blood today.”

You walked backwards, only to stop when your back hits against something. 

_That’s odd, there wasn’t anything there before._

Looking over your shoulder, Clint smiles at you as he steers you forward. “You won’t.”

You looked back at her, a mischievous glint in her eyes and you so badly wished you didn’t come.  
  
…

“When you make the chop, you want it to follow through all the way.”

“All the way?” 

“Yeah, all the way back. Just like swinging a bat.” 

You took a deep breath, following what Nat had taught you, but you release the block too late, flinging it backwards instead. “Shit!”

They chuckled in response, enjoying the way you stomped your way to the block. “See! That’s why it’s a good idea to use a wooden block first.”

“Okay bean, why don’t you take 5 before you knock someone out.” 

You flopped onto the floor, groaning inwardly at the inability to master the art of knives. Nat and Bucky had made it look so effortless and here you were, barely able to throw it forward.

“Don’t give up, bean! You’ll get it event--” There was a groan before a thud as Clint hit the floor, Natasha towering over him. 

There was a nudge on your foot and you opened your eyes to see Bucky standing by your feet with an amused look in his eyes while you narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

“Depends. Do you have the wooden block with you?” You lifted it up slowly, the ache in your arms building. “Then no, I’m not enjoying this at all.” 

“Barnes!” Natasha called out. “Run a few rounds with her will you?”

You stood up with a weary sigh, bracing yourself against his arm when you stood up too fast, the world spinning around you. 

“You okay?” He worriedly peered into your eyes.

“Peachy.” Blinking away the stars, you raised your eyes to meet his. “Let’s get this over with.”  
  
…

You throw the knife as hard as you can and it finally, _finally_ sticks to the board. Bucky gives you a proud smile and Clint cheers from the bench making you shake your head at his child-like enthusiasm.

Natasha nods her head at your progress and your eyes narrow at her. There was something radiating off of her...What was it? Excitement? Mischief?

“We’ll work on your aim over the next few sessions. Right now, we spar.” 

Your mouth dropped and your stomach iced over. “I thought we were done! What do you mean _spar_?”

“Spar.” Natasha says nonchalantly as she gives you a shrug. “With the knives, so that you can practice the routine.” 

She calls Clint over who happily joins the team with a grin. 

“Nat, I’m going to stab someone.” 

“Then heal them if you do.” She countered, placing her arm on Clint’s shoulder with a grin. “Bucky heals quick anyway.”

It takes all the energy you have to stop yourself from hurling a knife at the two of them who are grinning like buffoons.

…

He goes through your stance and footwork, correcting you as you go while Clint and Natasha have their own sparring match. 

After that, he moves on to wielding the knife before teaching you about which parts of the body to stab. His movements are fast and swift as compared to yours.

Natasha and Clint show you certain scenarios on how to manoeuvre your way in a knife fight while you mirror their actions with Bucky as he takes the role of the attacker, holding you back to his chest.

You struggled, but his hold was something you couldn't break. “You know, for someone who’s afraid of knives, I’m surprised you haven’t injured yourself.” He mutters into your hair.

“Just wait ‘till the end.” You continued to struggle before tapping his arm. “Give!”

He lets you go in a heartbeat and you take a few seconds to recollect yourself while he hovers beside you.

“Okay, I’m good. Let’s go again.”

They repeat the training over the next few months, working on your aim and attack until finally, you succeed in catching him off-guard. Clint cheered loudly from the headlock that Natasha had him in while Nat shot you a proud smile while they wrestled.

Bucky crossed his arms as you flopped onto the mat, an amused smile on his face as he stood over you. 

“Not afraid of the pointy ends anymore?”

Too tired to speak, you flipped him off instead, earning you a grin.


	26. Nerves

It was going to be a simple mission, a standard rescue operation.

At least that’s what Clint had said. It didn’t quite convince you as your stomach twisted itself into a knot. 

Sure you had been training for quite awhile now, but you weren’t a skilled fighter like Bucky, Clint, Steve or Natasha and despite the training and skills you had acquired, you couldn't help feel you were a liability.

“Fear not, little one. The hands of Odin will watch over you.” You thanked Thor for his words of encouragement and bit your nail. 

For months you were on the other end of the spectrum, waiting nervously in bed as you anxiously waited for their arrival.

Now you were on your very first mission and it made a hole in your stomach.

“Don’t worry about it, Smiles.” Sam reassured. “You’ll be fine.”

You sat on the couch, clad in your gear as you awaited call time, it was comfortable and easy to move in with a range of deadly knick-knacks strapped on to you: a belt of throwing knives and stars, a gun holster strapped to your thighs and a rifle to your back, along with bullets and other pointy thingamabobs hidden in your pockets.

You anxiously played with the knife, twisting and twirling it around. You had spent weeks before practicing with the knives, and you saw how much you improved in the course of the last few months.

Wielding them was like second nature to you and no longer did you have to worry about flinging it backwards.

You hit the target every time with no fail.

But even that didn’t soothe your nerves, the thought of something going wrong following you even into your dreams.

There was a knock on your door before Clint’s face popped into the room. “Nerves?”

You nodded, chewing on your nail. He sat beside you, ruffling your hair in the process. “Well, I’m here to distract you. Guess what?” 

“What?”

“Lila talked to me awhile ago and she told me about a crush she has on this new boy at school.” You could sense the excitement radiating off of him as he grinned. 

“Well, what did she say about him?”

“Only that he had dimples and pretty green eyes.” He gave a small laugh but your heart sank a little, knowing that all he wanted was to be at home.

“I hope he’s a decent kid.”

“He better be, else he’d have an arrow to his chest, kid or not.” 

You laughed at his comment, knowing just how protective he was. You had seen it first hand during the scare Luke gave everyone, never leaving your side once, his arrow gripped tightly in his hand and his stare unwavering.

A moment of silence passed before he bumped your shoulder.

“So,” he said, clearing his throat. “Anyone you’d like to tell me about?”

You shook your head, brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

It took a minute for it to register before your cheeks slowly started to burn when you sensed where this was going.

“Oh, you know. Long hair, has a metal arm, piercing blue eyes and is all muscley?” He teased.

You burst out laughing at his description. It was hilarious but accurate nonetheless and you felt your nerves calm down a notch.

By some twist of fate, you guys were closer than ever, one never far from the other and you constantly hovered between being friends and something more.

Something you never would have thought would happen when you first arrived at the compound.

You were always careful to give him space but now he was freely offering his company and affection and the thought of it made your heart... _flutter_.

“I don’t know Clint.” You looked at him before looking down at your hands. “I really don’t. I’ve never been with anyone and this is all new to me so I really don’t know what we are.”

“But you like him?”

“I mean I feel safe when I’m with him and my nose bled on his sweater once but..”

“But?” Clint raised an eyebrow at you.

“What if he feels the same?”

“Wait,” he paused before he shot you a questioning look. “I don’t see how that’s a problem.”

The thought of relationships made you nervous and you sighed as you admitted the truth. “I don’t know how to do romance Clint. Unreciprocated feelings are easier to handle.” 

He bumped your shoulder again as he offered you a smile. “You don’t kiddo, you just let it happen.”

**Your company has been requested at the loading deck.**

You stuffed the knife back into the strap on your thigh as you followed Clint out of your room. Bucky hoists his tactical duffel bag over his shoulder, shutting the door to his room just as you leave yours. He gives you a once-over before his lips curved into a smile.

“Ready?”

“Will I ever be?” You muttered as you both joined Clint in the elevator, elbowing him when he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

…

The plan was simple.

Tony and Rhodey were to scan the HYDRA facility in search of the captured children. 

Once found, Steve & Bucky were to pave a way in with Bruce & Thor providing back up and Sam on air-support. Natasha would then infiltrate the facility, free the hostages while you and Clint remained high-up, taking care of the rogues and strays. 

The remaining S.H.E.I.L.D agents were to cover the ground, providing ground support.

_If anything happens, the mission goes on._

It sounded easy enough. 

Until, 

it 

Wasn’t.


	27. Stab & Seek

“Just stay with me, kid. Think of it as hard-core hide and seek.” 

You chucked at his analogy before hiding behind a tree. Clint nods and you stepped out of the tree, just quick enough to throw a knife. 

The both of you moved quickly through the snowy forest, throwing knives and shooting arrows as you went. You could hear the team interact through the communication device wedged in your ear as they fought through the wave of HYDRA agents.

The current mission? Get up to the roof.

The path has already been paved and you instinctively turn and throw a knife over your shoulder. A smile spreads on your face when the knife finds a target.

“Romanoff, you were right. Knives are good for her.”

The communication device beeped before Natasha’s voice fills your ear. _“I told you.”_

 _“I should bring some knives forged by the dark elves.”_ There’s a roar of thunder before lightning strikes the ground and HYDRA agents fly through the air. _“The little one might have a liking for them.”_

 _Forged by the dark Elves?  
_Very nice.

Both of you run into the hallway as a resounding smash echoes through the walls, Hulk comes around the corner shoving Hydra agents as he goes.

You joined the fight with Clint, back to back as you struggled to find a way up. Your voice tinkled through their ears as you continued to throw knives. _“Hey, has anyone seen the way up by any chance?”_

_“You know I could just lift you up there, right Smiley? Clint can find his way.”_

Your laughter filled their ears. Tony finds you on his map as he flies by, scanning the building for the stairs. 

_“And leave the party unattended? Yeah, I don’t think so. The stairs are on your right, kid. Good luck!”_

Clint grabs your hand and you both run again. Gun shots whizz past you and you halt. You follow your instincts and blindly throw a knife. It hits a target with a thud and you make a quick right. 

_“Barnes, I’d say she’d give you a run for your money.”_

You both stop on a staircase landing and look out the window. A HYDRA agent advances towards Bucky and Steve. Throwing a knife forward, it hits her on the back of the head and she falls. 

Bucky sucks in a breath at the thud behind him, your knife sticking out of her. _“Yeah? I’m convinced.”_

Clint shoots a few arrows before turning to you. “Not high enough.”

You run up the stairs again before pausing on the fourth landing. There was a distinct sound of footsteps and thus, sharing a knowing look, you angled your weapons to the door just as HYDRA agents entered the stairwell.

You attack and they fall to the floor with a thud. Running up a few more stairs, you finally reach floor with the rooftop access. Clint climbs the ladder and struggles to push the creaky roof-door open.

“Snow?” 

He nods and grunts as he tries to shake off the snow by pushing the roof door up repeatedly. “A lot of snow.”

You stand by the window as you wait, swinging your rifle from behind you and adjusting it on the ledge. 

Looking through the scope, your heart lurches when you see a HYDRA agent approaching Sam.

You shift your aim and fire. The agent goes down and Sam looks around in confusion before continuing to fight.

“You’re welcome, Sam.” 

The corners of Bucky’s mouth quirked up at the smile evident in your voice.

_“God damn tic tac, not a bad shot either!”_

_“Got your 6’ Romanoff.”_

_“Thanks Rhodey.”_

The roof door finally becomes free of snow and Clint throws it open.

“Hey kid, we’re up.”

You looked through the scope and your heart beats faster. “Hold on, we got strays on Rhodey’s tail.” 

Clint hops off the ladder and onto the landing you are on, joining you by the ledge. One by one they fall.

_“Thanks, kid!”_

“Okay, we’re up. Let’s go.” You nod, following behind Clint just as a familiar squawk filled the air. You froze, you haven't heard that squawk since-

a loud explosion filled the air and the building shook.

And then 

the floor gave in 

and 

you 

Fell.

…

Time seemed to stop.

You could feel the rush of the wind in your ears and the soft brush of your hair flying past your face. 

You watched as Clint’s face contorted into despair, his hand stretched out to yours, fingers merely brushing before you were out of his reach. 

You heard a strangled cry erupt from his throat and then you heard a scream, _yours_ , as Clint’s face became smaller before he slowly faded away.

...

There was a collective pause as something exploded before your scream tore through their ears, sending an icy chill through their veins. 

There was static before Natasha’s voice filled the silence. _“Clint! What happened!”_

_“She fell! She — the floor gave way.”_

_“Clint, get to the top. I’m sending down the iron-bots to coordinate search and rescue! The mission goes on. Go!”_

His world stilled as your scream echoed hauntingly in his ear and it seemed like time stopped. His hand became numb and all he wanted to do was to drop everything and run to find you. 

“Bucky, there’s an opening. We need to go!” He met Steve’s glassy eyes. “Tony will find her, he has to.”

Please be okay. Please be okay. 

_Please_

_be_

_Okay._


	28. Tremble

_Your father sits calmly on the chair when all of a sudden, a violent flashback hits him out of nowhere._

_The room sways and your mother calmly walks up behind, her fingertips curling around his temples._

_He slumps on the chair, a blank expression sits on his face as he stares ahead._

_She hums softly as white light seep through her fingertips and your father starts to convulse._

_“Mom? What are you doing? Stop, it’s hurting him!”_

_She doesn’t see nor hear you and foam is starting to come out of his mouth._

_Blood drips down his eyes as he hauntingly stares at you, seeing but unseeing._

_“Dad? Oh my god, what did you do to him!”_

_She continues to hum and takes a gun out of the drawer._

_A scream erupts from your throat as you realise what she’s about to do._

_“No!”_

_She falls to the ground, her eyes seeing but unseeing, a smile etched onto her face._

...

If anything happens, the mission goes on.  


If anything happens, the mission goes on.  


If anything happens, the mission goes on.  


If anything happens, the mission goes on.  


If anything happens, the mission goes on.

If anything happens, the mission goes on.

If anything happens, the mission goes on.

If anything happens, the mission goes on.

If anything happens, the mission goes on.

If anything happens, the mission goes on.

If anything happens, the mission goes on.

If anything happens, the mission goes on.  
If anything happens, the mission goes on.   
If anything happens, the mission goes on.   
If anything happens, the mission goes on.   
If anything happens, the mission goes on.   
If anything happens, the mission goes on.   
If anything happens, the mission goes on.

If anything happens, the mission goes on.

  


If anything happens, the mission goes on.

  
  


_If anything happens, the mission goes on._

**…**

He fought with a vicious ferocity, hands snapping the neck of an agent before he flung the lifeless body aside. The faster he worked, the quicker he could get back to you. 

He couldn’t lose you.

No, not like this.

…

He thought about his daughter Lila and then he thought about you, the tenth addition to the family and basically one of his own. Raising his bow, he fired rapidly. 

He couldn’t lose you. 

…

Flying through the air, he sent redwing to survey the room before he flew in. He thought about how you got him through one of his toughest moments. You were the sibling he wished he had. 

He couldn’t lose you, no. 

Not today. 

…

His eyes were glassy as he swung his shield towards an agent. He thought about the times he sat with you in comfortable silence, just the sound of pencils sketching across the paper. 

The iron-bots will get to you, they have to.

They have to.

…

She crouched low against the wall as she surveyed the scene. Her hands picked at the friendship bracelet before she took a guard by surprise. She would see you again.

She would make sure.

...

He roared at the agents who surrounded him. Guilt coursed through his veins as he swung his green fists blindly. They flew in different directions before falling; blank stares, unmoving.

 _Guilt. Shame. Fear_ . This was all his fault. _Guilt. Shame. Fear._

…

He recalled the last time you hugged him, how it never failed to catch him off guard. He secretly enjoyed it, enjoyed the love and warmth you gave him and it made him feel guilty for including you in this mission. 

He shouldn’t have included you in this mission.

…

The sound of thunder boomed through the air. You were the only one to entertain his questions regarding mid-gardian humour, happily sharing silly images you called _memes_ and short moving images called _vines_. 

You reminded him of Loki, a _younger, kinder_ version of Loki.

…

His eyes darted across the room, blasting an agent off of her feet. You were the only one who entertained his cooking, no matter how bad it got. 

_You were family._


	29. Energy

_“I have visuals on the targets, cover me Steve.”_

Clint cursed in your ear. _“I’m down, I’m hit.”_

_“I’ll cover you, Clint.”_

_“Sam, watch out!”_

You felt helpless as you listened to the comm. device still wedged in your ear.

Your fingers twitched lightly as the cold snow enveloped you, biting the bits of skin the suit didn’t cover. You were trapped under a mix of debris and snow so you laid there, unable to move nor speak.

Anger and determination bubbled in your chest as you focused on the team. 

_Not this time._

Fighting back the image of your mom’s curved smile in the mirror, you feel the familiar warmth surge through your veins.

_There won’t be anyone joining her._

You willed the power to come to your fingertips but this time, it felt _different_.

It wasn’t warmth you felt on your fingers, but something sharp and jagged.  
It was untapped energy, something you have never used before.

_Your nose started to bleed,_

Clenching your fist, you focused on the memory of your knives; the sleek handle, the sharp edges, the silver glint under the light; how they were wedged in the soft bodies of HYDRA agents.

_and so did your eyes._

You thought about your family and how it hurt you to know that you couldn’t cover them from where you were and so you focused; focused on the one thing you so badly wanted: 

To have your knives strike down the hearts of those attacking your family.

The energy gathers at your fingertips, writhing for release.

And so you will it to happen.

The energy blinds you for a moment before it releases itself from your fingertips, tracking down every bit of metal you last touched. It wrenched the knives out from the bodies it buried itself into, levitating in the air before raining down.

_“What the fuck!”_

_“Did anyone else see that?”_

A smile formed on your lips.

_“Kid, you there? Was that you?”_

_“Talk to us, bean.”_

With the last remaining bit of your energy, you speak, your voice soft and raspy through their ears. “You’re welcome.”

The voices in your ear slowly fade away before you are dragged into unconsciousness, the familiar warmth of blood embracing you.

_If anything happens, the mission goes on._

…

You laid in his arms, bundled up in a mountain of blankets as he gently swept the stray hairs away from your face. You were so, so _cold_ ; your skin had taken on a milky white and your lips were a slight blue.

He tenderly dabbed the warm cloth onto the blood that streaked from your eyes and nose.  
  
He thought he lost you. 

The fear had rendered him still before being taken over by a new wave of urgency. He fought ferociously, not once hesitating, his thoughts drifting back to you.

The thought of losing you scared him so much that when he heard the sound of your voice again, he couldn’t breathe.

His eyes ran over the cuts the peppered your cheek and neck while his thoughts travelled back to what Clint had said to him on the quinjet.

_“You know we give you our blessings right?”_

_His eyes shifted to Clint who was co-piloted by Natasha. He crossed his arms, unsure where this was going._

_“What are you talking about?”_

_Clint jerked his head in your direction, the sound of your laughter filling the air as the team took turns telling childhood stories._

_You had been nervous before, the fear of the unknown curling up in your stomach and the team had taken it upon themselves to soothe your nerves._

_“Who’s we?”_

_Clint and Natasha shared a knowing look before turning back. “Does it matter?”_

_He huffed in response._

_“Don’t think we don’t see you, big guy.” Natasha teased in a sing-song voice._

_He thought about the past few months, how he unconsciously sought your warmth, bringing you closer when you slept beside him under the fort as he slept without nightmares for the first time in a while._ _It was something that didn’t go unnoticed by the rest._

_“I’m just saying, you should tell her.”_

_He looked over his shoulder and watched as your eyes smiled with happiness. You caught his eye and shot him a warm smile which took his breath away._

_“Maybe one day.”_


	30. Your Mortal Enemy & Holy Grail

There was a stir in the blankets as you pushed it aside, eyes blinking slowly as you looked around the room.

“Hey, you.” 

His eyebrows twitched in amusement as you smiled at him loopily. “Hey,” he said softly, offering a small smile. “How are you holding up?”

“Faaantastic.” You held two thumbs up, making his smile wider. “You look like crap.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He watched as your eyebrows furrowed, fingers brushing over your hands until it finally rested on the IV nestled in the back of your hand. You blinked at it, eyes narrowed before whispering, “You again.”

Leaning forward, he gently enveloped your hand in his before you could do any damage to your mortal enemy.

“It itches, huh?”

“Mmmhmm…”

His thumb brushed over your hand and you blinked once, then twice before your eyelids fluttered shut, your breaths steady as you fell back asleep.  
  
…

Dr Cho placed the X-ray film over the board as she shook her head in excitement.

“I’ve never seen anything like this!” 

Bruce and Tony stood with her in the MEDbay.

“Her bones have somehow mended themselves, her progress steadily improving. This is amazing!”

She pulls out the first X-ray film to compare. It had only been two months since the fall and your injuries were healing at an abnormal, accelerated rate. 

You felt better too, not having to wince every single time you took a breath of air but they wouldn’t take your word for it.

“A healer healing herself? Well, that sounds just about right.”

In the time spent recovering, the team hovered around you, taking turns to watch over you, constantly checking if you were cold and sneaking you snacks in the MEDbay when Dr Cho and her nurses weren’t looking. 

Bruce took extra care in making sure you got everything you needed despite telling him that it wasn’t Hulk’s fault at all and that you still loved them both no matter what.

Tonight was the first night back in your room and you were ecstatic, finally free from the dreaded IV drip you hated so much. The only problem was managing the cuts and bruises you had acquired.

While Dr Cho had offered a solution to patch your wounds, you opted for a more traditional way.

After patching up the back part of your body and having to do it at weird angles, you decided to take a break, one thing on your mind.

Thus, you padded into the common room, in pursuit of the holy grail: Chocolate milk.

“Will it kill you to ask for help?”

Fumbling with the small carton, you found Bucky leaning against the wall, giving you a disapproving look.

“Jesus.” You put your hand on your chest in shock. “Yes Bucky, it will and it’s not like my feet don’t work.”

To prove it to him, you lifted a leg and wiggled your toes at him, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. 

“I swear, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” You gave him an exaggerated pout before he sighed.

He offered to walk you back to your room and you gratefully accepted, eager for some company. There was something unspoken between you two but you left it at that, tonight you needed a friend. 

“I swear, I’m fine. Why are you still up? Are you spying on me?” You teased.

His eyes glanced around before he scratched the back of his ear as you rounded the corner to your room. “Well…I wouldn’t call it spying.” 

“Did Bruce put you up to this because I swear -”

“He didn’t.” He says reassuringly. “We all did... FRIDAY informs anyone who’s awake if you ever leave your room.” 

“Are you kidding me? Go get some sleep.”

He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as his eyes flickered to the drink in your hand. “I can’t, you’re not done with your milk.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, ignoring how blue his eyes were when they held amusement but then you see the weariness of his face and the dark circles, understanding immediately.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Something like that.”

You wiggled your fingers at him, little cartoon band aids peppering all over your hand. “Wanna help me with these things then?”

“I’d love to.” 


	31. Gummy Bears

“Always have your back covered.”

You squinted at the sun as you sipped the iced-water. “It’s hard when the sun’s burning my eyes.” 

Clint returned from the market just in time to plop a cap on your head. “Always be prepared, Bean.” 

You gave him a grateful smile as you adjusted the cap, thankful to have a clear sight back. “You know, I’m starting to think I’d rather have you kick my ass in gym.”

Natasha rolls her eyes with a grin. “Well, the gym will have to wait until you’re fit to spar and besides, I wouldn’t want to face the wrath of Nurse Song.”   
She turns back to the crowd. “Okay, Rogers. You’re up.” 

You chewed on the straw as you studied the crowd. It was much easier when you didn’t have to squint. _There_.

“Steve, is that you by the sunglasses?” 

He turned and waved. “Hey, good job kid!”

You pumped your fist in the air, grinning in victory. “1 out of 7!” Clint gave you a high-five as Natasha shook her head. 

“You’ll get better. Guys, let’s wrap up.”

Sam, Steve and Bucky slowly emerged from the crowd, clad in civilian clothing just as Natasha and Clint turned to leave.

You followed behind them, chewing on some gummy bears. An arm slung around your shoulder and you offered the gummy bears to Sam who shook his head. “I’m good jellybean. How you holding up?”

Steve and Bucky fell in step beside you as you shrugged. “I’m great, just wishing I wasn’t so short because you guys are walking waaay too fast.”

“Short? You’re not short, you’re comfortable leaning height. See?”

You swatted Sam away as he leaned his arm on your shoulder, making you bump into Bucky who placed a hand on your back to steady you before he tucked it back into his pocket.

“Keep up tic-tac!” 

“Can’t, I have short legs!” 

Sam stopped and looked at you as he patted his back. “Well then, hop on.”

Steve glanced over his shoulder and smiled as they walked ahead. 

“Are you sure?”

"Well, I’m not about to wait for a human jelly bean to catch up.” You grinned as he crouched low before you hopped on his back and wrapped your arms around his neck. “See? Ain’t you the lightest thing.” 

…

  
  
They walked together, Steve occasionally glancing at him with a knowing smile. “So...”

“If you’ve got something to say you better spit it out.”

Steve grinned at him as he jerked his head in your direction. “She’s good for you.”

He glanced back just as you fed Sam gummy bears looking like a little shell on his back. “Too good for me.” He muttered, turning and staring straight ahead.

“What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know if _I’m_ good for her.” 

You hopped off Sam’s back just as they entered the carpark. "Dibs!” Sam yelled as he made a run for the passenger door.

“Sam!” You whined. “You promised!”

“Jellybeans lose!”

Somehow Nat managed to slip in the passenger seat while he wasn’t looking and he stopped, an annoyed expression sitting on his face when she winked at him. “Gotta be faster than that Wilson.”

“Unbelievable.” He made his way to the back seat. “You’re lucky you’re cute Romanoff.” 

You paused and looked over to Steve and Bucky whose eyes darted away when you turned. “Coming?” 

Steve nodded, clearing his throat. “Um, yeah. In a minute.” 

They waited until you disappeared from view before Steve turned to him.

“Take my advice will you? Don’t wait too long.” 

…

His eyes remained passive on the screen.

“I’m staying Professor X. While I did weigh my options, I can’t just leave my family. They’re all I have.” He nods his head, a small smile on his lips as he looks forward.

“Very well. I wish you a speedy recovery. Should you wish to change your mind, the offer still stands.”

The call ends and you sit on the couch, biting your nail as you stared into the canvases strewn across the floor.

It seemed like a selfish decision but after the accident, you were surrounded and reminded of the people that kept you grounded, that kept you sane and suddenly, it wasn’t selfish. 

Not anymore. 


	32. Unexplored Territory

It became a nightly routine for Bucky to come over with a box of cartoon band aids that he knew you liked. 

Sometimes you would play music or podcasts and sometimes you would just spend hours talking to him, enjoying each other’s company while he tended to your wounds.

“So you’re staying?”

“Mmhmm.”

You sit cross-legged on couch, facing Bucky who has one leg tucked under him, the other firm on the ground. 

Your hand lays in his, his forehead creasing in concentration as he gently applied the antiseptic solution on the cuts.

“I betcha’ if you rubbed his head, you would get a free wish.”

He chuckled and glances up at you for a brief moment, his eyes filled with amusement before going back to your cuts. “And what would you wish for?”

“A fountain of chocolate milk along with an unlimited supply of lemon, lime and orange flavoured gummy bears.”

“Wow.” He snorts while he gently places your hand back on your lap before moving on to the other hand. “You’ve got it all sorted out, huh?”

“Mmhmm.” You winced slightly as he applied the solution on a slightly deeper cut and he glances up at you worried.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. 

“Don’t be.” 

You bit your lip. “What would you wish for?”

“Not sure, haven’t thought about it.” 

There was a gnawing question at the back of your head, something you wanted to ask him from the start, something you had successfully ignored but was now screaming in your head.

“Can I ask you another question?” 

“Hmm?”

“Where does the name ‘Bucky’ come from? Buckaroo or...?” 

He chuckled again, finding it entertaining how you were just a box of amusing surprises and that you thought his name was _Buckaroo_. 

“It comes from my middle name, Buchanan.“ 

The puzzle in your head finally clicked. “Ah, that makes so much sense now.” He finishes up on your hands and moves closer to you until you were almost between his legs.

Your thoughts run off to an old friend you had in kindergarten. “I had a friend once that was named Archibald.” 

His gaze dropped to your neck and he reached out, lifting your chin to examine the cut. “Yeah?”

He dropped some antiseptic onto the cotton bud, drenching it slightly as one hand cradled your cheek.

“He wanted us to call him archer but we called him Baldy the Baldo instead.”

There was another amused look in his eyes. He gently pressed the cotton bud against the cut and you sucked in a breath as it started to burn.

“You know, Sam won’t stop talking about the friendship bracelet you made us.” He was offering you a distraction and you gratefully took it.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He inspected the cut before leaving it to dry. “Says it’s the best thing he’s had since his _Bianca_ collection?”

You laughed. “You mean Beyonce?”

“Yeah, her.” He moves on to the cut on your cheek, tilting your chin down slightly. There’s a moment of silence as he drenches the cotton bud with antiseptic solution. “You know, you scared us back there.”

He lightly tapped the cotton bud on the cut and you bit your lip as it stung. The silence lasted a minute before he spoke again.

“You scared _me_.” He added softly. 

You swallowed hard as you avoided his eyes, it was the first time he talked about the accident and your thoughts recalled the conversation you had with Clint.

_“I don’t know how to do romance Clint. Unreciprocated feelings are easier to handle.”_

_“You don’t kiddo, you just let it happen.”_

His words echoed through your ears.

_You just let it happen._

You reluctantly met his gaze, staring into his steel blue eyes; the eyes that made you feel butterflies in your stomach, the eyes that made you feel at home. 

For a few seconds you gazed silently into one another's eyes, what had seemed impossible and remote suddenly became possible, inevitable, and very near. 

Your heartbeat quickened when he gently caressed the skin above the cut on your cheek. He leaned forward, eyes flickering to your lips before he asked, “May I?” 

His hand was so warm and the caress was so gentle that your eyes gradually closed as you nodded, revelling in the way his lips brushed softly against yours before -

“Hey Smiley, do you need any- Oh shit!”

You spring away from Bucky, your cheeks burning red as you met Sam’s eyes. You mentally cursed as words failed you when you tried to think of something to say.

“I’m um, uh, I’m good Sam.”

He nodded his head and smirked at the both of you, hovering by the door a while longer before he finally says something. “I bet you are.”

Bucky glares daggers at him before throwing a pillow, narrowly missing him as he skipped away. 

“I’m gonna kill him.”

...

For as long as you can remember, you were never a mutant.

Well, at least your parents never mentioned anything about it.

“Will you be keen,” Tony began slowly, clapping his hands together. “To test your powers?” 

You narrowed your eyes, unsure about what this meant. 

Healing was the only thing you were familiar with. Sure you had nosebleeds and headaches alongside fevers and all, but you also knew that you still could get hurt.

And the power you showed during the mission? That was untapped territory and it made you nervous. It felt like it wasn’t something to be played with, it felt... _angry_. You bit your nail.

“Of course, but how?”


	33. Little Bird

He spread his arms open, mjolnir dangling from one wrist.

“Hit me.” 

This was _far_ from what you thought Tony had planned.

“Thor, I’m not gonna hit you.” 

“Well you have to,” he replied, frowning slightly. “Otherwise how are we going to know the full extent of your powers?”

You stood in the field outside the Avengers compound, standing with your hands on your hips. “I...but I can’t...what if you get injured?”

“That’s the point Smiles!” Tony yelled. He sat near the compound, sipping on ginger ale as he watched under the shade. “Wreck him!”

You huffed out a sigh, knowing fully well it was useless to argue.

Spreading your palms out, you mustered energy from your fingertips, building it up as you willed it to pick up the knives laid out on the grass. 

The energy writhed in your fingertips as you distributed it to a different knife, each hovering a few inches off of the ground before it fell with onto the grass with a dull thud. 

“That was great!” Thor exclaimed. “A great first step!”

You smiled at him, thankful for such an enthusiastic partner as you repeat the process, hopeful to get the knives across instead of merely hovering. 

You focus on the energy again, the knives levitating inches off the ground as you brought them higher. Your head throbbed the higher you lifted it, feeling a sharp pain in your temples as they levitated meters off the ground.

You watched as Thor’s proud smile faltered, shifting into a concerned look before he ran to you.

The knives fell as you retracted the energy, falling to your knees with short breaths. You steadied yourself by placing your hands on the ground, your nose bleeding and warm tears streaking down your face. 

“Child?” He knelt in front of you, eyes peering into yours. “Alright, in we go. That’s enough for today.”

He lifted you off the ground, slipping an arm under your knees as he headed towards the compound. “Thor, we barely even started! Plus you’re overreacting, this happens all the time. I’m fine!” 

He looked at you and shook his head before calling out to Tony. “Tony, we need her in the MEDbay now!”

You kept one hand under your nose, blinking hard as your vision blurred. You wiped away the warm tears with the back of your hand, gasping softly as you caught a glimpse of it. It wasn’t tears in your eyes,

it was blood. _  
_

_…_

He leaned against the wall and bit his knuckles, watching through the glass window as Dr Cho typed something into your log chart.

Sam and Clint stood beside him, their faces a mix of confusion and worry. From what they had heard, it was a practice session gone wrong, ending with Thor and Tony rushing you into the MEDbay.

They watched as you dabbed your eyes and cheeks with a damp cloth Dr Cho had provided you with.

The tension leaving only when you gave a small laugh at something Dr Cho had said, your smiley eyes appearing.

Clint’s shoulders sagged in relief and a smirk appeared on his face as he turned to him. “You know Barnes, a little bird told me about something that happened a few days ago.”

Sam grinned as he hung his arm on Clint’s shoulder. He ignored them, his focus solely on you, watching as you kicked your feet while you waited patiently. 

Neither of you had brought up what happened but had happily danced around your feelings for each other, sharing small touches and little glances across the room.

“Oh come on Barnes, I think we should have a little talk about the birds and the bees, shall we?” Clint teased. “We’ve practically adopted little Jellybean over there.”

He narrowed his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Birds and the bees?”

“Yeah,” Sam grinned before his face blanked into a serious expression. _“None of that.”_

Clint gave a half-suppressed laugh while Sam points two fingers into his eyes before pointing it back at him. “We’re watching you Snowflake.”

“Just take care of her will you?”

He shook his head as he turned his attention back to you, the corners of his lip lifting into a smile.

“I will.” 


	34. Stab & Seek II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song mentioned: Silence by Before You Exit

You could feel the warmth of the blush as it crawled up your neck.

Sam was relentless in teasing you; shooting you smirks across the room or puckering up his lips when he popped by to visit. It was annoying, in a I-want-to-kill-you-lovingly type of way.

What made it worse was that he wasn’t alone. He had somehow strung Clint along who also shot you teasing smiles and the oh so _annoying_ wiggle of his eyebrows. 

You retreated into your room, eager to get away from all the teasing. Slumping against the couch and inhaling the scent of the floral detergent from Bucky’s newly washed hoodie, you searched for something to do.

Eyes skimming through the blank canvases and unfinished sketchbooks.

Anything to distract you from the memory of the almost-kiss you were constantly reminded of. 

After Sam left, Bucky had left you with a long hug, followed by a kiss on the head.

As much as you were scared to admit, you longed for more but the fact that you had zero experience at all with Romance was enough to leave you withdrawn.

What if you did something wrong? You weren’t even sure if you knew how to kiss right and it made you scream internally.

This was exactly what you were afraid of.

You pressed your palms onto your eyes, trying hard to push aside the thoughts which made your face warm. 

_I need a distraction._

_…_

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

You threw the knives continuously, forming a triangle on the board.

Twirling the knife in your hand, you wondered what shape you could form if you hurled a fourth one.

 _Everybody's looking for love to start a riot._  
_But every time I look in your eyes,_ _  
the world gets quiet._

You cranked up the volume as you hummed along to the song, drowning out your thoughts.

Aiming for the bottom, you placed your hands on your hips in pride when you formed a diamond shape with the knives just as an arm snaked around your waist.

You jumped in shock, backing up against the table when you swirled around to face whoever it was. 

_It seemed like bad habits never die._

You sighed audibly, removing your earpiece. “You scared me!”

He cocked his head, a small smile on the edge of his lips as his eyes flickered to the board behind you before returning back to your eyes. There was a questioning look to his gaze and you suddenly felt shy around him. 

“Been busy?” 

“Um yeah, just practicing, I guess.” You bit your lip as you avoided looking at him, ignoring how close you were while your thoughts from before came flying through your head.

“Something wrong?” 

He peered into your eyes, in search of the answer behind the sudden change in your demeanour. You feigned innocence and shook your head as you felt your face go warm. 

“Hmm? Nothing.” 

Swallowing hard, you stepped away from him, the ghost of his touch lingering on your waist as you collected your knives before arranging them in neat little rows on the cloth.

The silence was deafening and guilt buried itself into your heart when you see a flash of hurt hiding behind the guarded look in his eyes. 

You opened your mouth to speak but words fail you and so you shoot him an apologetic smile instead. 

“Do you want me to drop by later?” 

You shook your head, giving him what you hoped was a convincing smile before giving him a quick side hug. Gathering your knives in the bundle, you left him in the gym just as Clint walked in.

It was selfish on your part, seeing as to how it obviously hurt him at the sudden distance but you desperately wanted to sort yourself out first before you progressed with him.

...

He threw his knives rapidly, one after another as his chest heaved thinking about the sudden distance between you.

He noticed everything about you, knew your every quirk and had caught on when you avoided his eyes. 

Not to mention the fact that you left him with a side-hug, you _never_ left with a side-hug. He couldn’t ignore the hurt that made a hole in his heart. 

_Had he done something wrong?_

Everything had been going good except when Sam interrupted, but that was about it and he frowned.

_He probably did something wrong._

“You know, if you keep that up, Smiles will have nothing to practice on.” 

He grunted in response before he collected the knives from the board.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” A crease set between his eyebrows as he looked at Clint who merely shrugged from the punching bag. “I know something you don’t, Barnes.”


	35. Clint the Love Doctor

“Bean,”

there was a knock on your door. “Its Clint, I’ve brought you sustenance.” 

You wiped your paint covered hands on your apron, carefully opening the door as his face appeared.

“Sustenance?” Your eyebrows drew themselves together before you gave a small laugh.

Inviting him into your living room, he places a box of pizza on the coffee table before hopping onto the couch. “Well, it’s been days since we’ve seen you, just wanted to make sure you have food in case you go hungry.”

You gestured to the canvases strewn across the floor, offering him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’ve been busy lately.”

“Mmhmm, I see.” He nods his head and watches you intently. “Anything else that’s been bothering you lately?”

You shook your head while you bit your lip, knowing it was impossible to lie to Clint.

“Anything at all?” He continued to press further, a teasing look in his eyes. “Not even about a tall guy with a metal arm who looks constipated sometimes?”

You laughed at his ridiculous description before sighing, feeling like a naughty child who just got caught.

“I’ve been...avoiding him.”

The confession lifts the weight off of your shoulders and you feel carefree for a moment before the guilt seeps in.

“We’ve noticed.”

“I’m just scared, really scared.” You fiddled with your fingers as you admitted the truth to him, plopping onto the couch beside him before you continued. “He’s my first would-be relationship, not to mention first semi-kiss and I’m holding back because I don’t know what to do in a relationship.”

He gives you a reassuring pat on your knee. “Well, I’m called the love guru for a reason.”

You wrinkled your nose at him. “Are you really?”

“Nah.” 

You sit on the couch eating pizza while Clint shared stories about his first love before ending it with an advice. When he leaves, you spend the next few hours painting, his advice repeating itself in your thoughts.

_“Don’t be afraid, Bean. Take it slow if you have to but don’t leave him in the dark for too long.”_

_Don’t_

_leave_

_him_

_in_

_the_

_dark..._

…

He glanced at you from across the common room, an ache in his chest as he tried to keep his distance. The urge to pull you into his arms was so strong that he had to force himself to look away, focusing on his cup of coffee instead.

_“You know she’s scared right?”_

_He narrowed his eyes, his shoulders tense. “Of what?”_

_Clint shrugged. “Whatever’s happening between you. You’re her first, first kiss, first relationship, first everything.”_

_He bit his knuckles as his shoulders relaxed. It didn’t occur to him that he was your first and he mentally scolded himself for not seeing it sooner._

_“Look kid, she likes you. Just give her time to come around.”_

It was hard not to look at you. Not when you had paint smeared all over your fingers and some across your forehead and cheeks.

He didn’t miss the blush spreading across your cheeks when you caught his eye, offering him a small smile in return. He sighed, knowing he was torturing himself if he stayed in the common room and so he left, retreating into his room. 

He laid on the couch, looking up to the ceiling as he recalled how soft your lips were despite the brief contact and your hugs, _god he missed your hugs._

His eyes fluttered shut at the thought of you and then,

he dreamt of you.

_The soft flutter of your eyelashes, the kindness in your eyes and the warmth of your smile._

_You ran through the field, giggling as he tried to catch you. The distance between you grew further with each step and his desperation reached its peak when without warning, the ground gave way, bringing you along with it. You dangled helplessly as you held on to a branch._

_The scene changed and he stood outside a room. His heartbeat quickened when he recognised the familiar straps that ran along the chair, along with the figure who sat on it. The Hydra personnel lifted off the bag and his stomach plummeted as you sat on the chair, glancing around frantically until your eyes found his._

_Your nose was bleeding and he slammed his fists against the glass over and over again, desperation fuelling him._

_There was a flick of a switch and then you screamed, blood seeping through your closed eyes._

“Bucky!” 

He jolted up in bed, chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. He flinched when he felt a hand touch him.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s me Steve. You had a nightmare, you’re safe.” Steve’s face swam into view while he familiarised himself with his surroundings.

He brushed a trembling hand over his face, trying to erase the memory of the nightmare.

“Here.” Steve handed him a glass of water, brows knitted in concern. “Do you want me to get you something to eat?”

He shook his head and watched as Steve retreated out of his room to give him space.

Peeling off his clothes, he stepped into the show, eager to let the water wash away the remnants of the nightmare.


	36. Baby Steps

_“...don’t leave him in the dark for too long.”_

You sighed, getting up from the floor. It was 4 in the morning and you couldn’t stop replaying Clint’s advice in your head. 

You twisted your paintbrush into a bun on your head as your hand hovered over the door handle. 

_Would he even be awake?_

You bit your lip, debating whether you should go over to his room now or wait till morning. 

_Well, if he isn’t awake you can just go raid Sam’s snacks from the common room._

You opened the door, stepping back in surprise when you see his fist raised, poised to knock.

You stay like that for a moment, eyes focused on each other before you flung your arms around his waist. 

He fell back slightly before wrapping his arms around you, holding you tightly against him as he breathed you in. _Oh god, how he missed this._

You stand like that for a while, enjoying his embrace before you pulled him into your room. When the door shuts, the words rush out before you can even stop yourself.

“I’m sorry I’ve been selfishly avoiding you but I really like you and I’m someone who’s never been kissed before and I’m scared because I’ve never been in a relationship and I don’t know how to handle feelings.”

Your cheeks burned as his eyes widened, a familiar hint of amusement in them. He cupped your face, his thumb brushing over the scar on your cheek while he looked into your eyes, his blue eyes intense with emotions swirling behind them.

“We can take all the time that you need.”

Your heart did a backflip at his words and you tiptoed, throwing your arms around his neck.

" _I’ve missed you so, so much.”_

You pulled away to look into his eyes, missing the steel blue orbs that reminded you of home. Breaking the gaze, he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose and he sighed happily when your smiley eyes appeared.

_Home._  
  
**…** **  
**

You leaned back against his chest, enjoying the warmth of his arms around your waist. It was hard to let go of one another, now that you had finally found your way back to him. 

He placed his chin on your shoulder and you turned to him, your eyes resting on the dark circles under his eyes. “It’s 5 in the morning, aren’t you tired?”

He placed a kiss under your ear and it made you _melt._ “No.” 

You shifted on the floor, turning to face him. “Nightmares?” You cupped his cheek, his five o’clock shadow tickling your palms. 

“Something like that.” Taking your hand, he placed a soft kiss on your palm, enough to make you feel tingly all over.

You recalled the sleepover, of which he had slept without any nightmares and so you stood up, bringing him up with you as you jerked your head to your room. He followed you hesitantly, unsure if he was intruding. 

_Baby steps._

You slipped into bed, removing the paintbrush from your hair before patting the empty side until he laid with you. For a moment, the both of you just stared at the ceiling, inches apart from each other before you ever so slowly, slipped your hand into his. 

You offered him a shy smile in the dark and then he pulled you closer, placing your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you. 

When morning comes, you wake up to warmth; his arms around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck and the blanket around the both of you.

_Home._ _  
_

…

You gave his arm a light squeeze before you brushed past him in the common room, retreating into your room before Sam could say anything. You weren’t one to say ‘I love you’, _no_. 

It was something you rarely did even when you were younger.

Instead, you’d squeeze a hand or an arm, give a hug or a kiss but never a straight forward ‘I love you’.

You liked the idea of showing love, the idea of actions filling the gap of unsaid words because it felt more meaningful, more personal whereas words, words could be void of truth, could be masqueraded in lies.

And he understood completely,

Showering you with hugs and holding your hand, nudging your foot under the table and little shoulder bumps, shoulder squeezes and forehead kisses, mirroring your affection with his own as the days progressed.

_Baby steps._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters will foreshadow the next fan-fic I plan to write with Steve RogersxReader under the prompt 'Sidekick gets treated badly by villain.' 
> 
> Stay tuned!
> 
> xx


	37. Red Smiles & Victory Curls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going undercover in a vintage-themed party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Mentioned: You belong to me by George Maharis

You studied yourself in the mirror.

Taking in the smooth coil of the victory rolls pinned neatly against your scalp, the ends of your hair curled, the sleek eyeliner on your eyes and the dark red on your lips.

This was... _different._

Sensing your unease, Natasha tilted her head at you. “What’s wrong?”

Shaking your head, your eyes met hers through the mirror. “I’m...I’m just not used to seeing myself like this.”

Her lips lifted into a small smile as she squeezed your shoulder. “You look great, Smiles. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go check if any of the boys need help. You know how useless they are when it comes to disguises.”

She turned her heel, her dress swinging behind her and her heels clicking as she left. Tonight’s mission was to go undercover at a Vintage-themed Party. 

The objective? To keep an eye on the moving target, Marcus Dubell. 

Tony and Pepper were going as themselves, having been on the guest list, whilst everyone else had to go undercover.

You were to reprise the same roles as the previous mission and it made your stomach churn at the memory of the accident.

Clint, Sam and you were to remain atop, acting as eyes from above whilst the rest covered the ground. Your heart pounded against your chest.

_Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong right?_

“Where is she? Where’s our jellybean?”

A smile crept up to your face when you heard Clint’s voice. He was like an excited dad, eager to get photos of the prom-like occasion and it made your heart warm, knowing that he treated you like his own. 

Your hand hovered over the door handle, smoothing down the skirt once more and patting down the knives strapped underneath the skirt before checking that your thigh holsters were in place.

_Showtime._

You shyly opened the door. Happiness and a hint of pride sparkled in Clint’s eyes as he wasted no time taking photos on his phone. “Amazing, you look amazing, kiddo! Aunty Nat, go stand with her will you?” Natasha grinned as she joined you, striking poses before Clint exchanged places, smiling like a proud father. 

“The kid’s all grown up.” He pretended to wipe a tear away as he clutched his chest. “How’s this for prom eh?”

There was a knock on the door and leaning against the doorway with his hands tucked in his pockets was no other than Mr Bucky Barnes himself, looking dashing in a double buttoned blazer, a hint of a vest underneath along with the hat angled slightly on his head, his hair pulled back into a bun. Handsome _._

_Devilishly handsome._

He did the same, giving you a once over as his eyes sparkled. It made your cheeks burn and suddenly you felt shy under his gaze. “Is this okay?”

The familiarity of the victory curls and the collared swing dress was enough to render him speechless. Eyes on you in that _oh god_ , cherry red lipstick that made your lips so enticing. 

“Ah, just look at these two lovebirds. Cat got your tongue, Barnes?” That was enough to snap him out of his daze, clearing his throat before the words finally found their way from his brain to his mouth. 

“Shut it, Romanoff.” He turned his attention back to you, eyes falling on the pretty collared swing dress you were in. “More than okay. You look...stunning.” He sighed happily when you smiled, a hint of dreaminess in his eyes as they gazed at you.

“Come on Barnes! We need one with the prom date.” Clint nudged him forward, joining you as he ever so gently wrapped an arm around your waist.

“You look beautiful, doll,” he whispered as Clint snapped away.

“Smiles?”

Sam’s voice echoed through the hallway before his head popped in the room. “Good god, you look great! He turned to look at Bucky, giving him a once over only to shrug, “You look okay.”

“I’m gonna get you one day, I swear.”

Sam simply grinned, putting his hands on his hips while he looked at you proudly before turning to Steve. “Take a picture of us will you?”

You laughed as you stayed in position, Clint and Sam behind Bucky, looking like menacing parents as they shot daggers over his shoulders while Steve snapped away. 

“Go on,” Natasha said, nudging Steve forward. “Can’t leave the second big brother out.”

A small smile spread across his face before he stood beside you, Sam and Clint taking position on either end, looking like proud parents. 

...

_I know (I know) you belong_  
_To somebody new_  
_But tonight_  
_You belong to me_  
  
_Although (although) we're apart_  
_You are a part of my heart_  
_But tonight_ _  
_ You belong to me

The voice of George Maharis crooned through the speakers of the lavishly decorated ballroom and it made him wish that you were in his arms, dancing to the music instead of being on this mission.

It was hard to keep his head in the game when you looked so breathtaking, eyes flickering over you ever so often. The red on your lips, the flowy skirt, the pinned up hair.

_Good god._

_‘Eye on the prize, Snowflake.’_

_‘It is.’_ He raised the champagne glass to his lips, not missing the pink tinge that spread across your cheeks and the quirk of your lips.

_‘Target is approaching the main staircase.’_

His eyes flickered briefly towards the man in the grey vest steadily manoeuvring through the crowd. _'I make out 6 guards.’_

_‘Make it 10.’_

_‘Thorough isn’t he?’_

He watched as Marcus led his date up the stairs, stopping briefly at a blindspot before he heard a gasp through the communication device.

_‘He has a girl with him and he...he hit her.’_

_‘Steady there, Smiles. Romanoff will be making her move.’_

Marcus reappeared seconds later, hand on the small of the girl’s back while her head ducked down.

It only took a second for the guards to react when they saw Natasha approach. Action ensued as she fought her way through the wave of guards, Marcus grabbing the girl with force as they made their escape. 

_‘They have some sort of tech that can see through the biomask.’_

There was panic amongst the crowd as the exits flooded with people, terrified screams filling the air as shots rang out.

He saw Sam fly across the top level to fight alongside you and Clint, a mix of bullets, knives and arrows flying through the air. He flung his hat and blazer aside as he pursued more guards on the first floor.

An explosion knocked him off his feet, and for a moment, all he could focus on was the ceiling until footsteps ran into the room.

He could hear the swish of a knife sailing through the air and he rolled aside just as a knife landed on the spot he laid a few seconds ago. Seething with rage, he pursued the attacker, ending the fight with a sharp crack as he lay unmoving at his feet.

_‘Any visuals on Dubell?’_

_‘Negative.’_

A scream pierced through the air and,

he froze.


	38. The Dead Do Smile

A feeling of dread settled in your stomach as he shot her twice in the side.

The girl screamed, whimpering when she hit the ground while he casually walked out of the window, the sound of tires screeching shortly after. 

_Oh god, oh god._

Running over to her, you yelped as a fireball danced on her palms. “Woah! I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise.”

She stared at you, eyes wary at your presence but sunk back down eventually as weakness overcame her. “I’m trying to help you, I swear.” 

You approached with caution, hands up before slowly reaching out to her. Her arms were peppered with bruises, some old, some new but an especially large one caught your eye, it was on her throat, a vague imprint of a hand.

“What did they do…”

_‘Evacuate the civilians, we found a bomb.’_

“Hey, look at me. This is gonna hurt okay?” You placed your palms over the wounds, ignoring her wince as warmth seeped through your hands.

The bullets fell out with a clink before a familiar see-through figure appeared beside the girl.

You could not believe it, the familiar blue eyes, the blonde mop of hair. Kneeling beside her was none other than…

“Luke?”

He gave you a sad smile while the girl’s eyes snapped to you. You ignored her, eyes still trained on the see through figure, sadness filling your lungs.

“No...what… what happened?” 

“Kid, Cap needs backup in the base-”

“I’m sorry.” The girl whispered.

With new found strength, she conjured two fireballs, throwing them at you and Clint.

…

“You know, I thought this one would be an easy one.” Clint muttered.

You hummed in agreement beside him.

The mission had quickly gone to shit. The ballroom was a mess of turnt tables and chairs, walls were blown up and here you were, lying on the ground, sore and bruised.

“You okay, Smiles?” You scrunched your nose. “Peachy.”

_‘We’re in pursuit of the target.’_

_Oh, thank god._

_‘We need backup in the boiler room, we have an enhanced individual.’_

“Up on your feet Smiles, stay close.”

You took a deep breath, summoning all your knives and plucking them out of the air as they hovered in front of you.

You had gotten better with your powers, being able to better control small scale objects,

except for that damn fireball that she threw at you.

Clint grabbed the fire extinguisher, holding your hand in the other as you rushed down to the basement. There was a thick fog of smoke building up and you coughed your way into where the sounds were coming from the most.

The room was clear, for the most part and it was easier to make out what it was, a tech room. “Guns out, kid.” You covered his back, guns trained on any possible movement.

Steve’s voice echoed through the room and you hid behind a wall of wires. “You don’t have to do this.”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

You tapped Clint, pointing to the other side before leaving him, putting the gun back into your thigh holster before taking out a knife instead.

Inching closer, you kept your footsteps as light as possible, angling yourself behind the girl who had her back towards you.

Who was she and how did she know Luke? And oh god, _Luke_ , what happened?

“He’ll kill me if he finds out.” Her voice shook and her hand trembled over a switch.

Something in you ticked, a sense of knowing. The bruises? The way he treated her? She didn’t seem like a villain, more like a victim and so you tucked the knife back into the belt.

“We won’t let him.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t...” She whispered, her hand inching towards the switch. “I can’t.”

You sprung up from your hiding place, catching her off guard. You ducked when she threw a fireball at you before punching her in the stomach, quickly placing your fingers on the sides of her head when she doubled over. The calmness seeped through your fingers and she slumped over asleep. 

“Smiles, that wasn’t smart at all, you could have gotten hurt!”

“I know but…” You struggled with her slumped figure over you. “Little help?”

Steve took her in his arms, sending you a disapproving look before his eyes softened. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, really! A-okay.” 

“Jesus, kid.” You glanced over at Clint who came out from the shadows, a hand clutched over his heart. “Next time, warn me will you?

_‘Sidekick secured, meet us back at the quinjet.’_

“Where’s Bucky?”

“Should be here somewhere.“

“Bucky?” Your voice echoed through the empty hallway, worry blooming through your chest when no one answered. 

_‘Anyone has visuals on Barnes?’_

_‘Negative, Barton.’_

_‘Negative from my side too.’_

There was a magnetic pull towards the ballroom level and you hurried up.

“Smiles, where-”


	39. The Dead Do Smile II

"Ah fuck..." 

He laid against the column he had pulled himself out of. Taking deep breaths, he wrapped his hand around the glass shard, ready to -

_Approaching footsteps._

He watched the shadow as it rounded the corner, your face paling when you appeared in sight. “Smiles..." Your eyes welled with tears as you crouched beside him. “It’s just glass, I’ll be fine when I pull it out.”

“I’m here, Buck.” 

More footsteps approached. “Smiles, where is he?”

“Over here!” You called out.

They were at your side in an instant, Steve carrying a girl while Clint went over to his side, hands gripping the glass shard tight. With a nod, he pulled out the glass shard with a ‘squelch’.

Your palms moved over to the wound but he stopped you, clasping them in his hands instead. “No, you can’t.”

“I don’t care if you’re a super-soldier or not, I --”

“No.” He swallowed hard, thinking of the ghosts of those he killed, the hoard of massacred spirits he had slaughtered in the time spent as the Winter Soldier.

“You’ll see them.”

It came out as a mere whisper but you squeezed his hand reassuringly, another hand cupping his cheek.

“Only those who are close to you.”

…

_You squeezed his hand, shooting him a last glance over your shoulder._

_“Stay safe.”_

_And then the darkness swallowed you whole, the warmth of your touch lingering in his palm before he felt nothing._

_…_

He woke up with a gasp, his heart was pounding as his eyes darted around the room, taking a second to readjust to the darkness.

Dazed and disoriented, his hand flew to the side where the glass shard was previously embedded. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach as he wondered about who you saw and it made him sick. 

_Oh god, what if you didn’t want to see him anymore?_

He picked at the friendship bracelet you made him, running his fingers over the soft weaving of the thread while his ears perked at a sound.

_A melody,_

someone was humming and singing softly _,_

 _Although we're apart_  
_You are a part of my heart_  
_But tonight_ _  
_ You belong to me

He left his room to find you on his couch sketching as he watched from the doorway. It was a sight that warmed his heart and it took his breath away when you looked up to smile at him, happy eyes and all. “Hey you.” 

He met you halfway, his arms wrapping around you just as you did the same. He could still feel you humming softly against his chest and he didn’t know why but it made a knot in his throat.

He had been worried that you would keep your distance once again but he was wrong. 

_You were here._

You propped your chin against his chest, gazing up at him with nothing but love in your eyes and it made his chest swell. “How are you holding up?”

He gave a shaky laugh, “Better, because of you.”

You gave him a smile, eyes crinkling into your infamous smiley eyes. His eyes flickered over to the clock and his brows knitted in concern.

“You should be asleep.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He hunched over and placed a kiss on your head. “You should have joined me.”

“It’s okay, I know you needed space.”

He swallowed hard, thankful for your gift of knowing. “You can join me now, if you’re comfortable with it, unless you’re not — I mean…”

You chuckled before pulling away from him, a hand in his as you tugged him into his room. “Didn’t peg you to be someone so easily flustered, Blue.” You teased, stopping beside his bed.

“Just when I’m around you. I…” His eyes darted around the room, suddenly nervous at his confession. “I didn’t think you would want to be around me after…after who might’ve appeared when you...after you know, after you healed me and —“

“Bucky.”

“I’ve hurt so many people and oh god, the things you would see. I can’t even describe it, can’t even imagine what it’s —“

“Bucky.”

“— like for you and I’m so, so sorry if you —“

“Bucky!”

You cut him off by pressing your lips against his, his body immediately stilling at the contact before his hand gently pressed on your waist, drawing you closer as he leaned down.

You smiled into the kiss, pulling back with your eyes still closed, seconds passing by before they fluttered open, a sight so breathtaking he could never get used to it. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to work on that.”

“Yeah? We have all the time in the world.” He watched as your eyes crinkled while you chuckled, your hands coming to a rest on his chest. 

“If you want to know...I saw...it was your mom.” 

_Oh._

“She just shook her head at you but...she’s proud of you. She really is.” He smiled at the thought of his ma still looking over him. It was comforting, it made him feel less lonely, knowing that people on the other side still loved him regardless. 

It gave him hope.

“You know I love you right?” You said softly, a thumb brushing over his cheek while one hand reached down to his metal one, forming it into a fist before placing a soft kiss on his knuckles. 

_You loved him._

Gentle, you were so _gentle_ with him, treating his arm as if it wasn’t a weapon. So brave, as if it wasn’t responsible for ending the lives of so many others, but you always were a brave one, even from the start. 

Not once shying away from his metal limb. Instead, curiosity and understanding replaced the disgust and fear he was usually used to.

It was one of the reasons why he liked being around you in the first place, you made it easier for him to be himself, not having to constantly be conscious about his bionic arm.

_You loved him._

“It’s not something I say often but Bucky Barnes, I love you and I know that you’ve done regrettable things, unforgettable ones but I’ve also seen you try to become a better person and that’s something, don’t you think?” He stood speechless as the weight of your words sank into the corners of his brain. 

_You_

_loved_

_him._

He peered into your eyes, trying to find a hint of dishonesty, any sign of a fabrication but he couldn’t, only fierce adoration. 

_Hope._

His thumb brushed over your lip. “You always see the best in people...even in me,” he murmured, eyes consumed by fire as he looked back into yours. “I don’t know how you do it.” 

You scrunched your face, giving him a small smile.

“It’s easier than you think.”

_Hope._


	40. Epilogue

> _A cable car_  
>  _Streetlights on Mars_  
>  _This is the start_  
>  _Even if we don't know where we are_  
>  _Falling so hard_  
>  _Here in the dark_  
>  _This is the start_  
>  _Even if we don't know where we are_
> 
> _\- Streetlights on Mars (Stripped) by Jackson Penn_

You painted long brush strokes while you hummed along under your breath, jumping when hands touched your waist before arms slipped around you from behind. 

Plucking the earpiece from your ears, you gazed up at him with a smile, resting your head against his chest. “Hey you.”

He jerked his head to the canvas. “It looks amazing.”

“I hope so, it’s for Pepper’s office.” 

“She’s gonna love it.” He placed a kiss on your head, admiration shining in his eyes before his thumb reached out to wipe away a smear of paint on your cheek. “I need to show you something.”

Your eyes narrowed as he tugged your out of the room, placing his hands over your eyes as his breath tickled your ear when he whispered, “Don’t be mad okay?”

It felt like forever until he finally stopped, slowly peeling his hands back. There was a shout and you jumped back against him in shock.

“Surprise!”

You were greeted by the team blowing party pipes while balloons lined the common room. You laughed in delight at the party hats they wore on their heads. 

“Happy birthday, Bean!” Clint picked you up, swinging you around before plopping you back on your feet. “I know you didn’t want us to make such a big deal about your birthday but we just couldn’t help it.”

You chuckled, giving him another hug, “Thank you, Papa Bird.”

Clint pulled away to be replaced by Sam who also lifted you off of your feet. “Happy Birthday to our baby girl! Our baby bird’s growing up!” 

You laughed, thanking him while the rest surrounded you, taking turns to swirl you around and greet you.

By the time it ended and you had blown out your candles, his arms had slipped around you once again, drawing you back to his chest.

With happy eyes and a toothy grin, you adjusted the lopsided party hat on his head.

“Happy Birthday, Smiles.”

✶ ✶ ✶

**This is how the story ends,**

**When the sun has set and the storm has passed,  
** **When the fire has simmered and the earth has gone to rest,  
****When love blooms and the relationship is put to the test,**

**This is how the story ends.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✿ Hello, my beloved fuckos!✿
> 
> If you have reached up to the end of this, good on you! You're a bloody legend, you. Thanks for reading this clusterfuck of a fan-fic that I wrote spontaneously in a span of a few months.
> 
> Do stay tuned for the sequel which will be aimed at Steve RogersxReader! You will see more of Smiley(aka also you) inside that story but give me awhile okay? 
> 
> Leave me some feedback so I know what to look out for in the next fan-fic.
> 
> xx


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